Why there's something tolerable in the sound of a Dean's Lady--Let me
see if it will do.--"The _Deans's_ coach;--the _Dean's_
servants."--Something better this than a plain _Mr._
Here comes Miss Powis. Now shall I be forc'd to huddle this into my
pocket.--I am resolv'd she shall not see the preferment I have chalk'd
out for myself.--No, no; I must be secret, or I shall have it taken from
me.
_This_ Miss Powis,--_this_ very dutiful young Lady, that I used to have
set up for a pattern,--_now_ tells me that I _must_ write no more;
_that_ you will not expect to hear from me 'till the next post.--If I
_must_ take Miss Powis's advice in everything;--if I _must_ be guided by
_her_;--you know _who_ said this, Madam;--why then there is an end of my
scribbling for this night.--But remember it is not _my_ fault.--No,
indeed, I was sat down as sober sedate as could be.--Quite fit for a
Dean's Lady?--Yes;--quite fit, indeed.--Now comes Lady Elizabeth and
Lady Sophia.--Well, it is impossible, I find, to be dutiful in this
house.
Thursday, twelve o'clock at noon.
Bless my soul! one would think I was the bride by my shaking and
quaking! Miss Powis is--Lady Darcey.
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