him on his return the Costume & those Letters left me by my aunt. I am not in the least hurry for them, if they only came safe at last.
Many thanks for the Irish receipt. A Country house is an eternal bother. One has too many irons in the fire. Life in London glides smoothly along, but here between the Gardener, & the Bailiff, & the Keeper, & the Steward, & the Coachman the Clerk of the Works (with the Architect who comes down occasionally) it is enough to drive a body out of their wits, always something going wrong in some department. O London is Capua, is Sybaris to this! Then comes a terrible story of some poachers - & before you have heard the end of it you perceive the cows have broke down the paling & are breakfasting on Mignonnette <1> & Carnations! Then perhaps the Coachman overturns you into a ditch or down a quarry, all which you are safe from on the right side of Hyde Park Corner. In short that is the peaceful life, not this.