Read it through once

This London visit, which resulted, we are told, in “a total destruction of gloves and shoes, and no great good to my lilac gown,” was brought to an end in a perfect whirl of festivities and sight-seeing. “As you and I do not deal in generalities,” wrote Miss Mitford to her mother, “I will give you my account in detail.... On Friday evening I dined at the St. Quintin’s, and we proceeded [to the Opera House] to take possession of our very excellent situation, a pit box near to the stage and next the Prince’s.... Young is an admirable actor; I greatly prefer him to Kemble, whom I had before seen in the same character (Zanga in _The Revenge_). His acting, indeed, is more in the style of our favourite Cooke, and he went through the whole of his most fatiguing character with a spirit which surprised every one. A curious circumstance happened—not one of the party was provided with that article, so essential to tragedy, yclept a handkerchief; and had not papa supplied the weeping beauties with this necessary appendage, they would have borne some resemblance to a collection of blurred schoolboys. To me, you know, this was of no consequence, for I never cry at a play; though few people, I believe, enter more warmly into its beauties.... The dancing of Vestris is indeed perfection. The ‘poetry of motion’ is exemplified in every movement, and his Apollo-like form excels any idea I had ever formed of manly grace. Angiolini is a very fine dancer, but her figure by no means equals Vestris’s, and I had no eyes for her while he remained upon the stage.... It was one o’clock before we returned; and at ten the next morning Fanny and I set out to make our round of visits in a very handsome landau barouche.” These visits are then described, and the hope expressed that she will meet Cobbett, a meeting to which she was looking forward. Continuing, she writes:—“To-morrow we go first to Bedlam; then to St. James’ Street to see the Court people; and then I think I shall have had more than enough of sights and dissipation. You cannot imagine, my dearest mamma, how much I long to return home, and to tell you all the anecdotes I have picked up, and pet my poor deserted darlings. I would have given up any pleasure I have partaken here to have seen the dear bullfinches eat their first strawberries. Did I tell you that the high and mighty Countess D’Oyerhauser called on me immediately after her return from Bath? She sets up for a _femme savante_, attends the blue-stocking meetings at Lady Cork’s, and all the literary societies where she can find or make an entrance. She is, therefore, in raptures at finding a fresh poetess, and we are going there this evening. I must tell you a good trait of this literary lady, who can scarcely speak a word of English. She was to meet Scott on Tuesday, and wanted to borrow a _Marmion_, that she might have two or three lines to quote in the course of the evening.”