I long for it dreadfully, and hope
you will send it before the river shuts. I suppose
you and Charles Weston do nothing but ride round
among those beautiful villas on the island, and
take comfort. I do envy you your happiness, I can
tell you; for I think any beau better than none,
though Mr. Weston is not to my taste. I am going
to write you six sheets of paper, for there is
nothing that I so delight in as communing with a
friend at a distance, especially situated as I am
without a soul to say a word to, unless it be my
own sisters. Adieu, my ever, ever beloved Julia--be
to me as I am to you, a friend indeed, one tried
and not found wanting. In haste, your
"ANNA.
"Gennessee, June 15, 1816.
"P. S. Don't forget to jog aunt Emmerson's memory
about asking me to Park-place.
"P. S. June 25th. Not having yet sent my letter,
although I am sure you must be dying with anxiety
to hear how we get on, I must add, that we have a
companion here that would delight you--a Mr.
Edward Stanley. What a delightful name! and he is
as delightful as his name: his eye, his nose, his
whole countenance, are perfect. In short, Julia, he
is just such a man as we used to draw in our
conversation at school. He is rich, and brave, and
sensible, and I do nothing but talk to him of you.
He says, he longs to see you; knows you must be
handsome; is sure you are sensible; and feels that
you are good.
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