The Letters of Jane Austen: Selected from the compilation of her great nephew, Edward, Lord Bradbourne — John Shaqi
The Letters of Jane Austen: Selected from the compilation of her great nephew, Edward, Lord BradbourneAusten, Jane
General
The Letters of Jane Austen: Selected from the compilation of her great nephew, Edward, Lord Bradbourne
Austen, Jane
Austen, Cassandra, 1773-1845; Austen, Jane, 1775-1817 -- Correspondence; Novelists, English -- 19th century -- Correspondence
The alterations and improvements within doors, too, advance very
properly, and the offices will be made very convenient indeed. Our
dressing-table is constructing on the spot, out of a large kitchen table
belonging to the house, for doing which we have the permission of Mr.
Husket, Lord Lansdown's painter,--domestic painter, I should call him,
for he lives in the castle. Domestic chaplains have given way to this
more necessary office, and I suppose whenever the walls want no touching
up he is employed about my lady's face.
The morning was so wet that I was afraid we should not be able to see
our little visitor; but Frank, who alone could go to church, called for
her after service, and she is now talking away at my side and examining
the treasures of my writing-desk drawers,--very happy, I believe. Not at
all shy, of course. Her name is Catherine, and her sister's Caroline.
She is something like her brother, and as short for her age, but not so
well-looking.
What is become of all the shyness in the world? Moral as well as natural
diseases disappear in the progress of time, and new ones take their
place. Shyness and the sweating sickness have given way to confidence
and paralytic complaints. . . .
_Evening._--Our little visitor has just left us, and left us highly
pleased with her; she is a nice, natural, open-hearted, affectionate
girl, with all the ready civility which one sees in the best children in
the present day; so unlike anything that I was myself at her age, that I
am often all astonishment and shame. Half her time was spent at
spillikins, which I consider as a very valuable part of our household
furniture, and as not the least important benefaction from the family of
Knight to that of Austen.
But I must tell you a story. Mary has for some time had notice from Mrs.
Dickson of the intended arrival of a certain Miss Fowler in this place.
Miss F. is an intimate friend of Mrs. D., and a good deal known as such
to Mary. On Thursday last she called here while we were out. Mary
found, on our return, her card with only her name on it, and she had
left word that she would call again. The particularity of this made us
talk, and, among other conjectures, Frank said in joke, "I dare say she
is staying with the Pearsons." The connection of the names struck Mary,
and she immediately recollected Miss Fowler's having been very intimate
with persons so called, and, upon putting everything together, we have
scarcely a doubt of her being actually staying with the only family in
the place whom we cannot visit.
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