I am sorry my mother has been suffering, and am afraid this exquisite weather is too good to agree with her. I enjoy it all over me, from top to toe, from right to left, longitudinally, perpendicularly, diagonally; and I cannot but selfishly hope we are to have it last till Christmas,--nice, unwholesome, unseasonable, relaxing, close, muggy weather. Oh, thank you very much for your long letter; it did me a great deal of good. Henry accepts your offer of making his nine gallon of mead thankfully. The mistake of the dogs rather vexed him for a moment, but he has not thought of it since. To-day he makes a third attempt at his strengthening plaister, and as I am sure he will now be getting out a great deal, it is to be wished that he may be able to keep it on. He sets off this morning by the Chelsea coach to sign bonds and visit Henrietta St., and I have no doubt will be going every day to Henrietta St. Fanny and I were very snug by ourselves as soon as we were satisfied about our invalid's being safe at Hanwell. By manoeuvring and good luck we foiled all the Malings' attempts upon us. Happily I caught a little cold on Wednesday, the morning we were in town, which we made very useful, and we saw nobody but our precious[38] and Mr. Tilson. This evening the Malings are allowed to drink tea with us. We are in hopes--that is, we wish--Miss Palmer and the little girls may come this morning. You know, of course, that she could not come on Thursday, and she will not attempt to name any other day. God bless you. Excuse the shortness of this, but I must finish it now, that I may save you 2_d._ Best love. Yours affectionately, J. A. It strikes me that I have no business to give the P. R. a binding, but we will take counsel upon the question. I am glad you have put the flounce on your chintz; I am sure it must look particularly well, and it is what I had thought of. Miss AUSTEN, Chawton, Alton, Hants. FOOTNOTE: [38] Probably a playful allusion to Mr. Haden. LXXII. CHAWTON (Feb. 20, 1816). MY DEAREST FANNY,--You are inimitable, irresistible. You are the delight of my life. Such letters, such entertaining letters, as you have lately sent! such a description of your queer little heart! such a lovely display of what imagination does! You are worth your weight in gold, or even in the new silver coinage. I cannot express to you what I have felt in reading your history of yourself,--how full of pity and concern, and admiration and amusement I have been! You are the paragon of all that is silly and sensible, commonplace and eccentric, sad and lively, provoking and interesting. Who can keep pace with the fluctuations of your fancy, the capprizios of your taste, the contradictions of your feelings? You are so odd, and all the time so perfectly natural!--so peculiar in yourself, and yet so like everybody else!