LETTERS OF JANE AUSTEN
may now, for I believe Mr. Evelyn has all his life thought more of horses than of anything else. Their colour is black and their size not large; their price sixty guineas, of which the chair mare was taken as fifteen — but this is of course to be a secret.
Mrs. Williams need not pride herself upon her knowledge of Dr. Mapleton’s success here; she knows no more than everybody else knows in Bath. There is not a physician in the place who writes so many prescriptions as he does. I cannot help wishing that Edward had not been tied down to Dr. Fellowes, for, had he come disengaged, we should all have recommended Dr. Mapleton; my uncle and aunt as earnestly as ourselves. I do not see the Miss Mapletons very often, but just as often as I like; we are always very glad to meet, and I do not wish to wear out our satisfaction.
Last Sunday we all drank tea in Paragon; my uncle is still in his flannels, but is getting better again.
On Monday Mr. Evelyn was well enough for us to fulfil our engagement with him; the visit was very quiet and uneventful — pleasant enough. We met only another Mr. Evelyn, his cousin, whose wife came to tea.
Last night we were in Sydney Gardens again,
as there was a repetition of the gala which went
