castle square, tuesday (january 17).

my dear cassandra,—i am happy to say that we had no second letter from bookham last week. yours has brought its usual measure of satisfaction and amusement, and i beg your acceptance of all the thanks due on the occasion. your offer of cravats is very kind, and happens to be particularly adapted to my wants, but it was an odd thing to occur to you.

[139]

yes, we have got another fall of snow, and are very dreadful; everything seems to turn to snow this winter.

i hope you have had no more illness among you, and that william will be soon as well as ever. his working a footstool for chawton is a most agreeable surprise to me, and i am sure his grandmamma will value it very much as a proof of his affection and industry, but we shall never have the heart to put our feet upon it. i believe i must work a muslin cover in satin stitch to keep it from the dirt. i long to know what his colors are. i guess greens and purples.

edward and henry have started a difficulty respecting our journey, which, i must own with some confusion, had never been thought of by us; but if the former expected by it to prevent our travelling into kent entirely, he will be disappointed, for we have already determined to go the croydon road on leaving bookham and sleep at dartford. will not that do? there certainly does seem no convenient resting-place on the other road.

anna went to clanville last friday, and i have hopes of her new aunt's being really worth her knowing. perhaps you may never have heard that james and mary paid a morning visit there in form some weeks ago, and mary, though by no means disposed to like her, was very much pleased[140] with her indeed. her praise, to be sure, proves nothing more than mrs. m.'s being civil and attentive to them, but her being so is in favor of her having good sense. mary writes of anna as improved in person, but gives her no other commendation. i am afraid her absence now may deprive her of one pleasure, for that silly mr. hammond is actually to give his ball on friday.

we had some reason to expect a visit from earle harwood and james this week, but they do not come. miss murden arrived last night at mrs. hookey's, as a message and a basket announced to us. you will therefore return to an enlarged and, of course, improved society here, especially as the miss williamses are come back.

we were agreeably surprised the other day by a visit from your beauty and mine, each in a new cloth mantle and bonnet; and i dare say you will value yourself much on the modest propriety of miss w.'s taste, hers being purple and miss grace's scarlet.

i can easily suppose that your six weeks here will be fully occupied, were it only in lengthening the waists of your gowns. i have pretty well arranged my spring and summer plans of that kind, and mean to wear out my spotted muslin before i go. you will exclaim at this, but mine really has signs of feebleness, which with a little care may come to something.

[141]

martha and dr. mant are as bad as ever; he runs after her in the street to apologize for having spoken to a gentleman while she was near him the day before. poor mrs. mant can stand it no longer; she is retired to one of her married daughters'.

when william returns to winchester mary jane is to go to mrs. nune's for a month, and then to steventon for a fortnight, and it seems likely that she and her aunt martha may travel into berkshire together.

we shall not have a month of martha after your return, and that month will be a very interrupted and broken one, but we shall enjoy ourselves the more when we can get a quiet half-hour together.

to set against your new novel, of which nobody ever heard before, and perhaps never may again, we have got "ida of athens," by miss owenson, which must be very clever, because it was written, as the authoress says, in three months. we have only read the preface yet, but her irish girl does not make me expect much. if the warmth of her language could affect the body, it might be worth reading in this weather.

adieu! i must leave off to stir the fire and call on miss murden.

evening.—i have done them both, the first very often. we found our friend as comfortable as she can ever allow herself to be in cold weather.[142] there is a very neat parlor behind the shop for her to sit in, not very light indeed, being à la southampton, the middle of three deep, but very lively from the frequent sound of the pestle and mortar.

we afterwards called on the miss williamses, who lodge at durantoy's. miss mary only was at home, and she is in very indifferent health. dr. hacket came in while we were there, and said that he never remembered such a severe winter as this in southampton before. it is bad, but we do not suffer as we did last year, because the wind has been more n.e. than n.w.

for a day or two last week my mother was very poorly with a return of one of her old complaints, but it did not last long, and seems to have left nothing bad behind it. she began to talk of a serious illness, her two last having been preceded by the same symptoms, but, thank heaven! she is now quite as well as one can expect her to be in weather which deprives her of exercise.

miss m. conveys to us a third volume of sermons, from hamstall, just published, and which we are to like better than the two others; they are professedly practical, and for the use of country congregations. i have just received some verses in an unknown hand, and am desired to forward them to my nephew edward at godmersham.

[143]

alas! poor brag, thou boastful game!

what now avails thine empty name?

where now thy more distinguished fame?

my day is o'er, and thine the same,

for thou, like me, art thrown aside

at godmersham, this christmastide;

and now across the table wide

each game save brag or spec. is tried.

such is the mild ejaculation

of tender-hearted speculation.

wednesday.—i expected to have a letter from somebody to-day, but i have not. twice every day i think of a letter from portsmouth.

miss murden has been sitting with us this morning. as yet she seems very well pleased with her situation. the worst part of her being in southampton will be the necessity of one walking with her now and then, for she talks so loud that one is quite ashamed; but our dining hours are luckily very different, which we shall take all reasonable advantage of.

the queen's birthday moves the assembly to this night instead of last, and as it is always fully attended, martha and i expect an amusing show. we were in hopes of being independent of other companions by having the attendance of mr. austen and captain harwood; but as they fail us, we are obliged to look out for other help, and have fixed on the wallops as least likely to be troublesome. i have called on them this morning and found them very willing, and i am sorry that[144] you must wait a whole week for the particulars of the evening. i propose being asked to dance by our acquaintance mr. smith, now captain smith, who has lately reappeared in southampton, but i shall decline it. he saw charles last august.

what an alarming bride mrs. —— must have been; such a parade is one of the most immodest pieces of modesty that one can imagine. to attract notice could have been her only wish. it augurs ill for her family; it announces not great sense, and therefore insures boundless influence.

i hope fanny's visit is now taking place. you have said scarcely anything of her lately, but i trust you are as good friends as ever.

martha sends her love, and hopes to have the pleasure of seeing you when you return to southampton. you are to understand this message as being merely for the sake of a message to oblige me.

yours affectionately,

j. austen.

henry never sent his love to me in your last, but i send him mine.

miss austen, edward austen's, esq.,

godmersham park, faversham, kent.