204 A Century of Family Letters [CHAP, xiv 



writing at a table on which lay open a manuscript book 

 that looked very like a journal. Her husband in Don Juan 

 accuses her with some impatience of writing journals; at 

 another table sat a young man reading who took little notice 

 of us or our visit, and spoke only to question Lady Byron 

 on something she said, in a manner not quite civil. Ada, 

 a child of ten or twelve, went out as we came in, and so 

 rapidly that I could not see her; but luckily she returned 

 before we went, with her face all illuminated, in spite of 

 some expression of timidity, to bid her mother look at the 

 Mont Blanc red with the setting sun. I never saw a finer 

 child; brilliant with health, a gay, open, sweet-tempered 

 expression, but no regular lines of beauty; yet she may turn 

 out a great beauty; and nobody can say what her childish, 

 unformed features might turn out, and her mouth and eyes 

 are very fine. She is fair, and has not the least resemblance 

 to Lord Byron. We invited Lady Byron to tea the Thurs- 

 day, but she was going to Chamouny and declined, but 

 promised me a visit from Ouchy, where she is going to stay 

 some time. 



On giving Edward his allowance the 1st of July we found 

 so far from having saved anything he had spent more than 

 his allowance ; I could think of no better plan (that he would 

 follow, that is to say), than to persuade him to go to St 

 Gervais, where he can live for five francs a day and can have 

 nothing to buy, there being no shops of any kind, and an 

 almost impossible thing to get anything from Geneva. He 

 is gone this morning in the diligence, another triumph I 

 gained ; he wanting to take a char and to prove to me it was 

 the cheapest way. I was obliged to call Adele to my 

 assistance to make him go. She came to breakfast with me 

 last Friday, and I entertained her by relating Edward's 

 extravagance. He flew into a passion with me, which I 

 repaid him with interest. * After my telling him he was too 

 stupid to understand the meaning of words, and that I 

 would rather beat my head against a stone wall than talk 

 to him, he had the humility to throw his arms around my 

 neck and ask my pardon, as if I, too, had not sinned. To 



