pale.)
While the men were at their sport, we women found time to visit all the principal walks, including your favourite, the one around the top of the park. When the weather did not allow for sport, the men played at billiards.
Mrs. Daley, Margaret, was especially welcome. I have long wanted to know her better, but her loyalty to her Father is such that she is seldom from home as he is seldom in health. (I do not recall, have you met her at Pemberley? If you have heard all this before, pray excuse me.) Such devotion to a parent in a young, married woman might indicate a more staid manner than is the reality: she is very pleasant, cheerful and interested in everything about her, and at the same time showing a thoughtful, considerate and decided turn of mind. Fortunately, her devotion extends to her doting Husband, a Gentleman I have long admired, whose patience and forbearance with their domestic situation may even exceed her own.
We had lively discussions about the new novel, Emma, which by chance we had both lately read. Margaret did not like it so well as Sense and Sensibility and Mansfield Park by the same authoress. I, on the other hand, detested Fanny Price (as you well know) but the adorable Emma Woodhouse, despite (or perhaps because of) her many faults is so perfectly delightful, that I even forgive the authoress her dedication to the Prince Regent. I shall welcome your opinion when you next write. Mrs. Daley, by the bye, has heard rumours that the authoress is a Miss Austen, residing in Hampshire, and also tells me that Sir Walter Scott (upon whom we were able to agree!) has written a review of Emma in this month’s Quarterly Review. Jane, who had not yet read Emma, disagreed vigorously with me on the simpering, virtuous Fanny Price, so you see we did not lack for spirited conversation or entertainment.
The Children, too, had great fun. One morning Annie and Frederick Charles were taken by their Fathers to the stables where they had such a time with the horses, squealing with excitement and laughter as they were hoisted upon their mounts and walked around the courtyard. Young Frederick appears to have accepted that his Brother is here to stay and is of a better disposition than when I last saw him. The two youngest Cousins eat and sleep and gurgle and cry and smile as well or better than other Infants, and are naturally a source of delight and wonder to their doting Mothers.
I trust this finds you and my Uncle and Cousins in good health.
Affectionately,
E.D.
Pemberley
Tuesday, 16 th July, 1816
My dear Charlotte,
I was very glad of your letter this morning, for Annie keeping to her bed with a cold, which she generously gifted to her Father, has made us rather dull. Annie is most trying in her misery and refuses to understand why she may not see her Sister. Nurse and I attempt to entertain her with books, dolls and games, but none of these find favour for long. Otherwise, I am as well as one can expect to be in weather which deprives one of exercise; we have nothing but ceaseless rain and insufferable mud to complain of. Thankfully, the weather is my sole complaint for the hay was already brought in and the house has been fragrant with the scent of jams and jellies. The rain will swell the apples, no doubt, which may be of more importance to the world in general, but I selfishly long for a dry summer day to take myself on a long walk, with the reward of an incomparable view of the Peaks, of which I shall never tire, at the end of it.
Yes, I fear Mr. Collins’s intelligence is correct, though I regret that the unfortunate circumstance has been made so public. I know not the extent of Mr. Collins’ knowledge, but I have no secrets from you, dear Charlotte, and shall lay before you the whole, sorry story, leaving it to your discretion how much or how little of the following you feel obliged to share with others.
In a letter to Jane in April last, Lydia complained that she and Wickham, having had a miserable
While the men were at their sport, we women found time to visit all the principal walks, including your favourite, the one around the top of the park. When the weather did not allow for sport, the men played at billiards.
Mrs. Daley, Margaret, was especially welcome. I have long wanted to know her better, but her loyalty to her Father is such that she is seldom from home as he is seldom in health. (I do not recall, have you met her at Pemberley? If you have heard all this before, pray excuse me.) Such devotion to a parent in a young, married woman might indicate a more staid manner than is the reality: she is very pleasant, cheerful and interested in everything about her, and at the same time showing a thoughtful, considerate and decided turn of mind. Fortunately, her devotion extends to her doting Husband, a Gentleman I have long admired, whose patience and forbearance with their domestic situation may even exceed her own.
We had lively discussions about the new novel, Emma, which by chance we had both lately read. Margaret did not like it so well as Sense and Sensibility and Mansfield Park by the same authoress. I, on the other hand, detested Fanny Price (as you well know) but the adorable Emma Woodhouse, despite (or perhaps because of) her many faults is so perfectly delightful, that I even forgive the authoress her dedication to the Prince Regent. I shall welcome your opinion when you next write. Mrs. Daley, by the bye, has heard rumours that the authoress is a Miss Austen, residing in Hampshire, and also tells me that Sir Walter Scott (upon whom we were able to agree!) has written a review of Emma in this month’s Quarterly Review. Jane, who had not yet read Emma, disagreed vigorously with me on the simpering, virtuous Fanny Price, so you see we did not lack for spirited conversation or entertainment.
The Children, too, had great fun. One morning Annie and Frederick Charles were taken by their Fathers to the stables where they had such a time with the horses, squealing with excitement and laughter as they were hoisted upon their mounts and walked around the courtyard. Young Frederick appears to have accepted that his Brother is here to stay and is of a better disposition than when I last saw him. The two youngest Cousins eat and sleep and gurgle and cry and smile as well or better than other Infants, and are naturally a source of delight and wonder to their doting Mothers.
I trust this finds you and my Uncle and Cousins in good health.
Affectionately,
E.D.
Pemberley
Tuesday, 16 th July, 1816
My dear Charlotte,
I was very glad of your letter this morning, for Annie keeping to her bed with a cold, which she generously gifted to her Father, has made us rather dull. Annie is most trying in her misery and refuses to understand why she may not see her Sister. Nurse and I attempt to entertain her with books, dolls and games, but none of these find favour for long. Otherwise, I am as well as one can expect to be in weather which deprives one of exercise; we have nothing but ceaseless rain and insufferable mud to complain of. Thankfully, the weather is my sole complaint for the hay was already brought in and the house has been fragrant with the scent of jams and jellies. The rain will swell the apples, no doubt, which may be of more importance to the world in general, but I selfishly long for a dry summer day to take myself on a long walk, with the reward of an incomparable view of the Peaks, of which I shall never tire, at the end of it.
Yes, I fear Mr. Collins’s intelligence is correct, though I regret that the unfortunate circumstance has been made so public. I know not the extent of Mr. Collins’ knowledge, but I have no secrets from you, dear Charlotte, and shall lay before you the whole, sorry story, leaving it to your discretion how much or how little of the following you feel obliged to share with others.
In a letter to Jane in April last, Lydia complained that she and Wickham, having had a miserable
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