ABSTRACT
Illness was a sort of occupation to me, and I was always sorry to get well. When the interest of being in danger ceased, I had no other to supply its place. I fancied that I should enjoy my liberty after my divorce; but ‘even freedom grew tasteless.’ 60 I do not recollect any thing that wakened me from my torpor, during two months after my divorce, except a violent quarrel between all my English servants and my Irish nurse. Whether she assumed too much, upon the idea that she was a favourite, or whether national prejudice was alone the cause of the hatred that prevailed against her, I know not; but they one and all declared that they could not, and would not, live with her. She expressed the same dislike to con- sorting with them; ‘but would put up with worse, ay, with the devils themselves, to oblige my honour, and to lie under the same roof wid my honour.’
