Ever, my dear Lord, your truly attached friend,
Palermo, June 20th, 1799.
Eight o’Clock at Night.
MY DEAR LORD,
Having wrote fully by the felucca to-day, that went off at three o’clock—and have not yet General Acton’s answer, with respect to what the Court would wish you to do when you hear how the French fleet is disposed of—I have nothing to write by the transport.
God bless you! And I hope, somehow or other, we shall meet again soon.
My dear Lord, your’s, most sincerely,
Piccadilly, February 19th, 1801.
MY DEAR LORD,
Whether Emma will be able to write to you to-day, or not, is a question; as she has got one of her terrible sick head-achs. Among other things that vex her, is—that we have been drawn in to be under the absolute necessity of giving a dinner to ****** on Sunday next. He asked it himself; having expressed his strong desire of hearing Banti’s and Emma’s voices together.
I am well aware of the danger that would attend ******* frequenting our house. Not that I fear, that Emma could ever be induced to act contrary to the prudent conduct she has hitherto pursued; but the world is so ill-natured, that the worst construction is put upon the most innocent actions.
As this dinner must be, or ****** would be offended, I shall keep it strictly to the musical part; invite only Banti, her husband, and Taylor; and, as I wish to shew a civility to Davison, I have sent him an invitation.
In short, we will get rid of it as well as we can, and guard against its producing more meetings of the same sort.
Emma would really have gone any lengths, to have avoided Sunday’s dinner. But I thought it would not be prudent to break with ******; who, really, has shewn the greatest civility to us, when we were last in England, and since we returned: and she has, at last, acquiesced to my opinion.
I have been thus explicit, as I know well your Lordship’s way of thinking; and your very kind attachment to us, and to every thing that concerns us.
The King caught cold at the Chapel the other day, and there was no levee yesterday; and, to-day, the Queen alone will be at the drawing-room: and, I believe, the new ministry will not be quite fixed, until the levee-day next week.
As to my business—I have done all I can to bring it to a point.
The pension recommended by Lord Grenville was only like Walpole’s—a nominal two thousand pounds. I have represented the injustice of that—after my having had the King’s promise of not being removed from Naples, but at my own request; and having only empowered Lord Grenville to remove me, on securing to me a nett income of two thousand pounds per annum.