_Oct. 1, 1704._--Dolt that I was to lose courage! At last the goddess hath smoothed her frown. When I rose at the sound of knocking ’twas to find a cloaked and hooded woman at my door. The domino fell open and discovered Anne’s face, haggard and stained with tears. In her hands she carried a heavy bag. ‘My Aunt Rouvigny is dead,’ she cried, ‘and since she might leave me naught by will this she gave me in private. None knows of it save myself. It is yours--all lies before you now. Take the road to Fame.’ And though we had not met for so long, she waited for no word. Dear heart, to resign that fortune for my sake! When I have seen all that Europe boasts, and studied the works of the dark masters, I will return and make her my wife. Here is a copy of what I writ to her at Hambleton:-- ‘Mistress, I entreat you would be pleased to receive my very great thanks for the largeness of your generosity. I have warmer dreams of my work than ever, and with travel and the instruction of Italian artists I hope to do wondrous pictures. You have been my staff, and when the day comes that I already foresee, I shall cast myself a willing slave at your feet.--I am your humble Servant, PLINY WITHERTON.’ * * * * * [The journal contains an accurate narrative of adventures on the Continent. Anne’s gift was a thousand guineas. The relation of Witherton’s amours in France and Italy is worthy of Smollett. Anne’s constancy is noted at intervals. Her father and the tyrannical Countess had died, and left her guardian of their nine children, and she spent the years at Hambleton fostering the estate. Witherton suffered anguish before the Titians at Venice, and swooned in the Sistine Chapel. English art being what it was, his work won him some notice in Rome. Success strengthened his imagination, and his creations became more virile. At the Russian Court, whither he travelled from Italy, he was made painter-in-chief, and found his emoluments so large, and his position so vastly improved, that at the end of the fifth year he returned to England, with the intention of fulfilling his promise to Anne.] * * * * * _Jan. 1, 1710._--’Tis no longer the Hambleton of my boyhood; ’tis a centre of wretchedness and parsimony! Then all was lavishness--open house--the whole world welcome. Even whilst the leather hung rotting from the walls, came tuns of wine and rare fruits for each season. Now a new order ruleth;--to the deuce with such cheeseparing! ‘Mistress orders the fish from our own ponds; mistress orders the gorcocks to be killed on Danman’s Moor.’ The meanness of habit that sickened me in earlier times has now reached head. And yesternight I made her understand. In the days before the _cognoscenti_ acknowledged my genius, we had been wont to watch the New Year in from the windows of the Grecian temple that lies a quoit’s-cast from the hill-walk.