people to look on and talk nonsense to each other." It is not wonderful that she adds, "I cannot anyhow continue to find people agreeable; I respect Mrs. Chamberlayne for doing her hair well, but cannot feel a more tender sentiment." Soon after this, however, her spirits again rising to their usual playfulness, she gives an absurd little account of a walk undertaken with the very lady who did her hair so well. "The friendship between Mrs. Chamberlayne and myself, which you predicted, has already taken place, for we shake hands whenever we meet. Our grand walk to Weston was again fixed for yesterday, and accomplished in a very striking manner. Everyone of the party declined it under some pretext or other except our two selves, and we had, therefore, a tête-à-tête; but that we should equally have had after the first two yards, had half the inhabitants of Bath set off with us. It would have amused you to see our progress. We went up by Sion Hill, and returned across the fields. In climbing a hill Mrs. Chamberlayne is very capital; I could with difficulty keep pace with her, yet would not flinch for the world. On plain ground I was quite her equal. And so we posted away under a fine hot sun, she without any parasol or shade to her hat, stopping for nothing, and crossing the church-yard at Weston with as much expedition as if we were afraid of being buried alive. After seeing what she is equal to I cannot help feeling a regard for her. As to agreeableness, she is much like other people."
In spite of its dulness Bath suited both Mr. and Mrs. Austen in many ways, and before long they and their daughters were settled at 4 Sydney Terrace. Some time later they moved to Green Park Buildings, and
