August 10.—
All our motions here
are as regular as the clock. The family
rise at six; we are summoned to breakfast
at eight; at ten a venerable congregation
are assembled to prayers, which
an ancient clergyman, who is curate of
the parish, and her ladyship's chaplain,
gives us daily. Then the old horses are
put to the old coach; and my lady, with
her guests, if they chuse it, take an airing;
always going and returning by the same
road, and driving precisely to the same
land-mark, and no farther. At half an
hour after twelve, in a hall large enough
to entertain a corporation, we sit down to
dinner; my lady has a grace of a quarter
of an hour long; and we are waited on
by four truly venerable footmen, for she
likes state. The afternoon we may dispose
of as we please; at least it is a liberty
I am indulged in; and I generally spend
my time in the garden, or my own chamber,
till I have notice given me of supper's
being on the table, where we are
treated with the same ceremonials as at
dinner. At ten exactly, the instant the
clock strikes the first stroke, my lady rises
with great solemnity, and wishes us a
good night.
