“Nobody much applauded my resolution in going, but Johnson and Cator said they would not concur in stopping me by violence, and Crutchley was forced to content himself with intending to put the ladies under legal protection as soon as we should be across the sea.  This measure I much applaud, for if I die or marry in Italy their fortunes will be safer in Chancery than any how else.  Cator[1] said I had a right to say that going to Italy would benefit the children as much as they had to say it would not; but I replied that as I really did not mean anything but my own private gratification by the voyage, nothing should make me say I meant their good by it; and that it would be like saying I eat roast beef to mend my daughters’ complexions.  The result of all is that we certainly do go.  I will pick up what knowledge and pleasure I can here this winter to divert myself, and perhaps my compagno fidele in distant climes and future times, with the recollection of England and its inhabitants, all which I shall be happy and content to leave for him.”

[Footnote 1:  Note by Mrs. T.: “Cator said likewise that the attorney’s bill ought to be paid by the ladies as a bill of Mr. Thrale’s, but I replied that perhaps I might marry and give my estate away, and if so it would be unjust that they should pay the bill which related to that estate only.  Besides, if I should leave it to Hester, says I, ... why should Susan and Sophy and Cecilia and Harriet pay the lawyer’s bill for their sister’s land?  He agreed to this plea, and I will live on bread and water, but I will pay Norris myself.  ’Tis but being a better huswife in pins.”]

Madame D’Arblay writes, Friday, December 27th, 1782: 

“I dined with Mrs. Thrale and Dr. Johnson, who was very comic and good-humoured....  Mrs. Thrale, who was to have gone with me to Mrs. Orde’s, gave up her visit in order to stay with Dr. Johnson.  Miss Thrale, therefore, and I went together.”

I return to “Thraliana”: 

“January, 1783.—­A fit of jealousy seized me the other day:  some viper had stung me up to a notion that my Piozzi was fond of a Miss Chanon.  I call’d him gently to account, and after contenting myself with slight excuses, told him that, whenever we married, I should, however, desire to see as little as possible of the lady chez nous.”

There is a large gap in “Thraliana” just in the most interesting part of the story of her parting with Piozzi in 1783, and his recall.

“January 29, 1783.—­Adieu to all that’s dear, to all that’s lovely; I am parted from my life, my soul, my Piozzi.  If I can get health and strength to write my story here, ’tis all I wish for now—­oh misery! [Here are four pages missing.] The cold dislike of my eldest daughter I thought might wear away by familiarity with his merit, and that we might live tolerably together, or, at least, part friends—­but no; her