at the Honourable Mrs Kickabout's; we were escorted by Mr
Fitzgerald who is a very amiable young Man in the main, tho'
perhaps a little singular in his Taste--He is in love with
Matilda--. We had scarcely paid our Compliments to the Lady of
the House and curtseyed to half a score different people when my
Attention was attracted by the appearance of a Young Man the most
lovely of his Sex, who at that moment entered the Room with
another Gentleman and Lady. From the first moment I beheld him,
I was certain that on him depended the future Happiness of my
Life. Imagine my surprise when he was introduced to me by the
name of Cleveland--I instantly recognised him as the Brother of
Mrs Marlowe, and the acquaintance of my Charlotte at Bristol. Mr
and Mrs M. were the gentleman and Lady who accompanied him. (You
do not think Mrs Marlowe handsome?) The elegant address of Mr
Cleveland, his polished Manners and Delightful Bow, at once
confirmed my attachment. He did not speak; but I can imagine
everything he would have said, had he opened his Mouth. I can
picture to myself the cultivated Understanding, the Noble
sentiments, and elegant Language which would have shone so
conspicuous in the conversation of Mr Cleveland. The approach of
Sir James Gower (one of my too numerous admirers) prevented the
Discovery of any such Powers, by putting an end to a Conversation
we had never commenced, and by attracting my attention to
himself. But oh! how inferior are the accomplishments of Sir
James to those of his so greatly envied Rival! Sir James is one
of the most frequent of our Visitors, and is almost always of our
Parties. We have since often met Mr and Mrs Marlowe but no
Cleveland--he is always engaged some where else. Mrs Marlowe
fatigues me to Death every time I see her by her tiresome
Conversations about you and Eloisa. She is so stupid! I live in