if you were angry about the Bishop’s not offering you conveniences for the journey; and so he should.—­ What sort of Christmas?  Why, I have had no Christmas at all; and has it really been Christmas of late?  I never once thought of it.  My service to Mrs. Stoyte, and Catherine; and let Catherine get the coffee ready against I come, and not have so much care on her countenance; for all will go well.—­Mr. Bernage, Mr. Bernage, Mr. Fiddlenage, I have had three letters from him now successively; he sends no directions, and how the D——­ shall I write to him?  I would have burnt his last, if I had not seen Stella’s hand at the bottom:  his request is all nonsense.  How can I assist him in buying? and if he be ordered to go to Spain, go he must, or else sell, and I believe one can hardly sell in such a juncture.  If he had stayed, and new regiments raised, I would have used my endeavour to have had him removed; although I have no credit that way, or very little:  but, if the regiment goes, he ought to go too; he has had great indulgence, and opportunities of saving; and I have urged him to it a hundred times.  What can I do? whenever it lies in my power to do him a good office, I will do it.  Pray draw up this into a handsome speech, and represent it to him from me, and that I would write, if I knew where to direct to him; and so I have told you, and desired you would tell him, fifty times.  Yes, Madam Stella, I think I can read your long concluding word, but you can’t read mine after bidding you good-night.  And yet methinks, I mend extremely in my writing; but when Stella’s eyes are well, I hope to write as bad as ever.—­So now I have answered your letter, and mine is an answer; for I lay yours before me, and I look and write, and write and look, and look and write again.—­So good-morrow, madams both, and I will go rise, for I must rise; for I take pills at night, and so I must rise early, I don’t know why.

25.  Morning.  I did not tell you how I passed my time yesterday, nor bid you good-night, and there was good reason.  I went in the morning to Secretary St. John about some business; he had got a great Whig with him; a creature of the Duke of Marlborough, who is a go-between to make peace between the Duke and the Ministry:  so he came out of his closet, and, after a few words, desired I would dine with him at three; but Mr. Lewis stayed till six before he came; and there we sat talking, and the time slipped so, that at last, when I was positive to go, it was past two o’clock; so I came home, and went straight to bed.  He would never let me look at his watch, and I could not imagine it above twelve when we went away.  So I bid you good-night for last night, and now I bid you good-morrow, and I am still in bed, though it be near ten, but I must rise.