Miss Touchandgo replied as follows, to the first of these letters:--

My dear Father,--I am sure you have the best of hearts, and I have no
doubt you have acted with the best intentions. My lover, or I should
rather say, my fortune's lover, has indeed forsaken me. I cannot say I
did not feel it; indeed, I cried very much; and the altered looks of
people who used to be so delighted to see me, really annoyed me so, that
I determined to change the scene altogether. I have come into Wales, and
am boarding with a farmer and his wife. Their stock of English is very
small; but I managed to agree with them; and they have four of the
sweetest children I ever saw, to whom I teach all I know, and I manage
to pick up some Welsh. I have puzzled out a little song, which I think
very pretty; I have translated it into English, and I send it to you,
with the original air. You shall play it on your flute at eight o'clock
every Saturday evening, and I will play and sing it at the same time,
and I will fancy that I hear my dear papa accompanying me.

The people in London said very unkind things of you: they hurt me very
much at the time; but now I am out of their way, I do not seem to think
their opinion of much consequence. I am sure, when I recollect, at
leisure, everything I have seen and heard among them, I cannot make out
what they do that is so virtuous, as to set them up for judges of
morals. And I am sure they never speak the truth about any thing, and
there is no sincerity in either their love or their friendship. An old
Welsh bard here, who wears a waistcoat embroidered with leeks, and is
called the Green Bard of Cadair Idris, says the Scotch would be the best
people in the world, if there was nobody but themselves to give them a
character: and so I think would the Londoners. I hate the very thought
of them, for I do believe they would have broken my heart, if I had not
gone out of their way. Now I shall write you another letter very soon,