The threshold of my door was two or three feet above the steps of the stairway, and after I had contemplated the distance for a few minutes, I concluded that it would not be safe for me to attempt to climb into my sleeping apartments without help.

Accordingly I sat down upon the step on which I had been standing, placed my candle beside me, called loudly for a servant, received no response, and fell asleep only to be awakened by one of Sir George's retainers coming downstairs next morning.
After that supper, in rapid succession, followed hunting and drinking, feasting and dancing in my honor.

At the dances the pipers furnished the music, or, I should rather say, the noise.

Their miserable wailings reminded me of Scotland.

After all, thought I, is the insidious, polished vice of France worse than the hoggish, uncouth practices of Scotland and of English country life?
I could not endure the latter, so I asked Sir George, on the pretext of ill health, to allow me to refuse invitations to other houses, and I insisted that he should give no more entertainments at Haddon Hall on my account.