al Drama' at one of
the smaller Theatres! {251a}

You may have seen--but more probably have not seen--how Mr. Irving and
Co. have brought out 'Much Ado' with all _eclat_.

It seems to me (but I believe it seems so every year) that our trees keep
their leaves very long; I suppose because of no severe frosts or winds up
to this time. And my garden still shows some Geranium, Salvia,
Nasturtium, Great Convolvulus, and that grand African Marigold whose
Colour is so comfortable to us Spanish-like Paddies. {251b} I have also
a dear Oleander which even now has a score of blossoms on it, and touches
the top of my little Greenhouse--having been sent me when 'haut comme
ca,' as Marquis Somebody used to say in the days of Louis XIV. Don't you
love the Oleander? So clean in its leaves and stem, as so beautiful in
its flower; loving to stand in water, which it drinks up so fast. I
rather worship mine.

Here is pretty matter to get Coutts to further on to Paris--to Mrs.
Kemble in Paris. And I have written it all in my best MS. with a pen
that has been held with its nib in water for more than a
fortnight--Charles Keene's recipe for keeping Pens in condition--Oleander-
like.

Please to make my Compliments to Mrs. Wister--my good wishes to the young
Musician; {252a} and pray do you believe me your sincere as ever--in
spite of his new name--

LITTLEGRANGE.

CIX.

[_Nov._, 1882.]

MY DEAR MRS. KEMBLE:

You must be homeward-bound by this time, I think: but I hope my letter
won't light upon you just when you are leaving Paris, or just arriving in
London--perhaps about to see Mrs. Wister off to America from Liverpool!
But you will know very well how to set my letter aside till some better
opportunity. May Mrs. Wister fare well upon her Voyage over the
Atlantic, and find all well when she reaches her home.

I have been again--twice or thrice--to Aldeburgh, when my contemporary
old Beauty Mary Lynn was staying there; and pleasant Evenings enough we
had, talking of other days, and she reading to me some of her Mudie
Books, finishing with a nice little Supper, and some hot grog (for me)
which I carried back to the fire, and _set on the carpet_. {252b} She
read me (for one thing) 'Marjorie Fleming' from a Volume of Dr. Brown's
Papers {253a}--read it as well as she could for laughing--'idiotically,'
she said--but all the better to my mind. She had been very dismal all
day, she said. Pray get some one to read you 'Mar