ame la Marquise de Rouaillout, with her brother, M. le Comte de
Croisnel. Her husband, I hear from M. de Croisnel, dreads our climate
and coffee too much to attempt the voyage. I understand that she writes
to Lady Romfrey to-day. Lady Romfrey's letter to her, informing her of
Captain Beauchamp's alarming illness, went the round from Normandy to
Touraine and Dauphiny, otherwise she would have come over earlier.

'Her first inquiry of me was, "Il est mort?" You would have supposed her
disappointed by my answer. A light went out in her eyes, like that of
a veilleuse in the dawn. She looked at me without speaking, while her
beautiful eyes regained their natural expression. She shut them and
sighed. "Tell him that M. de Croisnel and his sister are here."

'This morning her wish to see Miss Halkett was gratified. You know my
taste was formed in France; I agree with Captain Beauchamp in his more
than admiration of Frenchwomen; ours, though more accomplished, are
colder and less plastic. But Miss Halkett is surpassingly beautiful,
very amiable, very generous, a perfect friend. She is our country at its
best. Probably she is shy of speaking French; she frequently puts the
Italian accent. Madame de Rouaillout begged to speak with her alone: I
do not know what passed. Miss Halkett did not return to us.

'Dr. Shrapnel and Captain Beauchamp have recently been speculating
on our becoming a nation of artists, and authorities in science
and philosophy, by the time our coalfields and material wealth are
exhausted. That, and the cataclysm, are their themes.

'They say, will things end utterly?--all our gains be lost? The question
seems to me to come of that love of earth which is recognition of God:
for if they cannot reconcile themselves to believe in extinction, to
what must they be looking? It is a confirmation of your saying, that
love leads to God, through art or in acts.

'You will regret to hear that the project of Captain Beauchamp's voyage
is in danger of being abandoned. A committee of a vacant Radical borough
has offered to nominate him. My influence is weak; madame would have him
go back with her and her brother to Normandy. My influence is weak, I
suppose, because he finds me constantly leaning to expediency--I am your
pupil. It may be quite correct that powder is intended for explosion
we do not therefore apply a spark to the barrel. I ventured on that.
He pitied me in the snares of simile and metaphor. He is the same, y