“We are now in this lovely spot where for for a time we
have fixed our residence; the rent of our cottage, furnished, is £1 10s. per
week. We do not intend to take up our abode here for a perpetuity, but should
wish to have a house in Sussex. Perhaps you could look out for one for us. Let
it be in some picturesque, retired place,—St. Leonard’s Forest, for
instance; let it not be nearer to London than Horsham, nor near any populous
manufacturing, dissipated town; we do not covet either a propinquity to
barracks. Is there any possible method of raising money
without any exorbitant interest, until my coming of age? I hear that you and my
father have had a rencontre; I was surprised he dared attack you; but men
always hate those whom they have injured; this hatred was, I suppose, a
stimulus which supplied the place of courage.
Whitton has written to me, to state the impropriety of my
letter to my mother and sister; this letter I have returned with a passing
remark on the back of it. I find that affair on which those letters spoke, is
become the general gossip of the idle newsmongers of Horsham—they give me
credit for having invented it. They do my invention much honour, but greatly
discredit their own penetration.”