--He requires sleep: none would he have
had, if he knew my surmises.--I'll to bed, and dream of Lady
Elizabeth;--_so_ good night, Dick.
Twelve o'clock at noon.
Mr. and Mrs. Powis this moment gone;--Lord Darcey dressing to meet them
in _Pall-Mall_.--Yes, they are to be there;--and the whole groupe of
beauties are to be there;--Miss Powis,--Lady Elizabeth,--Lady
Sophia,--and the little sprightly hawk-eyed Delves.--Risby, _you_ know
nothing of _life_; you are _dead_ and _buried_.
I will try to be serious.--Impossible! my head runs round and round with
pleasure.--The interview was affecting to the last degree.--Between
whom?--Why Darcey, Mr. and Mrs.--faith I can write no more.
MOLESWORTH.
LETTER XLII.
The Hon. GEORGE MOLESWORTH to the same.
_London_
The day of days is over!
I am too happy to sleep:--exquisite felicity wants not the common
supports of nature.--In such scenes as I have witness'd, the _soul_
begins to know herself:--she gives us a peep into futurity:--the
enjoyments of this day has been all her own.
Once more I regain the beaten path of narrative.
Suppose me then under the hands of hair-dressers, valets, &c.
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