I can't account for my own state of mind; I
only know that it is so. The difficulty of describing the young lady
doesn't perplex me like the difficulty of describing Mrs. Farnaby. I
can see her now, as vividly as if she was present in the room. I even
remember (and this is astonishing in a man) the dress that she wore.
And yet I shrink from writing about her, as if there was something
wrong in it. Do me a kindness, good friend, and let me send off all
these sheets of paper, the idle work of an idle morning, just as they
are. When I write next, I promise to be ashamed of my own capricious
state of mind, and to paint the portrait of Miss Regina at full length.
In the mean while, don't run away with the idea that she has made a
disagreeable impression upon me. Good heavens! it is far from that. You
have had the old doctor's opinion of her. Very well. Multiply this
opinion by ten--and you have mine.
[NOTE:--A strange indorsement appears on this letter, dated several
months after the period at which it was received:--_"Ah, poor Amelius!
He had better have gone back to Miss Mellicent, and put up with the
little drawback of her age.
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