Your kind letter and highly estimated present reached me two days before I left town, and I thought the best way to express my gratitude for both, was to wait until I could address you from a scene of splendid gaiety, that might enhance the value of my otherwise valueless letter.
A sentiment of affection and friendship must have deeply penetrated a heart, which, when united to a young, a gay, and giddy spirit, turns from pleasure and amusement, and pauses in the midst of its little triumphs, to think of the friend that is far away, and almost to regret the solitude which that dear friend rendered so gracious to every better feeling.
This, dear madam, I assure you, is frequently my case,
and in the midst of ovations decreed me, I think of the sweet walks and quiet
crags of Penrhôs; I think of the mass of black rocks I have so often
scrambled over with Miss “Munchee,” of
Mam’selle Gavotte, and the bathing-house; and,
above all, I think of Her who gave the spell, the charm to the whole. I write
to you from a fine old Gothic episcopal palace, and one of the oldest of our
Irish families, and I certainly
| 336 | LADY MORGAN'S MEMOIR. |
This is my first appearance in this part of my native
country, and the attention I receive produces the desired effect; but the
little heart is still worthy of you, so don’t fear for me. Your gown is
quite beautiful, and has been a great ally, for never wardrobe was so called
on. Dressing three times a day, without interval or cessation, for dinner and
the theatre leaves one’s dress quite unfit for the ball afterwards. Now
do, dearest madam, if you will not come, write to me. Your kind and
affectionate letters, your friendship and esteem, are infinitely more necessary
to me than balls and concerts. I hourly feel the strong line of demarcation
that exists between pleasure and amusement, and that it is to the heart we must
all return. I am indignant against Miss Munchee, and send
her no souvenir. She is a recluse, and might spare a
moment from lilies and roses to ask me how I do. I do not believe a word of the
baise-mains
| IDA OF ATHENS. | 337 |
