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Memoirs of

one does: or otherwise I shall put it in the Augsburg Gazette, or in an American newspaper.[1] ********

Hester Lucy Stanhope.

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At eleven at night I joined her at tea in her bedroom. She then asked me to read all the letters over, to see if anything wanted correction. After that, calling for her old parchment-covered blotting-book, she took them one by one, and folded them herself, "in order," as she said, "to give me instructions on that head." Generally speaking, she never seemed more happy than when she had a huge packet of despatches to put up: I dare say it reminded her of former times.

She began—"Now, doctor, a letter to a great man should fold over exactly to the middle—thus. Lord! what counting-house paper have you got here?—this will never do" (it was the thin paper common in France as letter-paper). I told her it was the very best there was in the house, and added, to quiet her,

  1. Several lines are here wanting, owing to a half sheet of paper having been lost in the confusion created by fumigating papers in quarantine. They were highly complimentary to his grace, and their omission is to be regretted.