I will bear in mind the name and misfortunes of Mr. B., and if any opportunity occurs, will endeavour to make myself useful to him; but, as you may suppose, I am up to the ears in clergymen. Your mother sent you the flaming panegyric of me in the ‘Morning Chronicle’ (and sent it at my desire, because I am sure it would give you pleasure, as I see you have an honest pride in the praises of your father); whether right or wrong others must determine, if any one thinks about it; but I should really deserve some praise if I could write as well as my eulogist.
Your mother and I mean to have a twelfth-cake, and draw kings and queens alone. Pray desire G. Hibbert to let us know whether and when he will come, and don’t forget this message. Many thanks for your kindness in getting Charlotte Loch* a place; the misfortune of the poor girl is that she has not been taught millinery and mantuamaking. Give my love to all your party; and believe me,