s,' returned to die, as the Hare
does, in her ancient 'gite.' {191} I shall soon be going to Lowestoft,
where one of my Nieces, who is married to an Italian, and whom I have not
seen for many years, is come, with her Boy, to stay with her Sisters.

Whither are you going after you leave Hampshire? You spoke in your last
letter of Scarboro': but I still think you will get over to Switzerland.
One of my old Friends--and Flames--Mary Lynn (pretty name) who is of our
age, and played with me when we both were Children--at that very same
Aldeburgh--is gone over to those Mountains which you are so fond of:
having the same passion for them as you have. I had asked her to meet me
at that Aldeburgh--'Aldbro''--that we might ramble together along that
beach where once we played; but she was gone.

If you should come to Lowestoft instead of Scarbro', we, if you please,
will ramble together too. But I do not recommend the place--very ugly--on
a dirty Dutch Sea--and I do not suppose you would care for any of my
People; unless it were my little Niece Annie, who is a delightful
Creature.

I see by the Athenaeum that Tom Taylor is dead {192a}--the 'cleverest Man
in London' Tennyson called him forty years ago. Professor Goodwin, of
the Boston Cambridge, is in England, and made a very kind proposal to
give me a look on his travels. But I could not let him come out of his
way (as it would have been) for any such a purpose. {192b} He wrote that
Mrs. Lowell was in better health: residing at Southampton, which you knew
well near fifty years ago, as your Book tells. Mr. Lowell does not write
to me now; nor is there reason that he should.

Please to make my remembrances to Mr. Sartoris, who scarcely remembers
me, but whose London House was very politely opened to me so many years
ago. Anyhow, pray let me hear of yourself: and believe me always yours
sincerely

THE LAIRD OF LITTLEGRANGE.

LXXIX.

WOODBRIDGE: _Friday_, [30 _July_, 1880.]

MY DEAR LADY,

I send you Mowbray's reply to my letter of nearly three weeks ago. No
good news of his Father--still less of our Army (news to me told to-day)
altogether a sorry budget to greet you on your return to London. But the
public news you knew already, I doubt not: and I thought as well to tell
you of our Donne at once.

I suppose one should hardly talk of anything except this Indian Calamity:
{193} but I am selfish enough to ignore, as much as I can, such Evils as
I cannot