unt more than heretofore: which is--not at
all. Raffaelle, Mozart, Shakespeare, did not take all that time about a
work, nor brought it forth to the world with so much Pomp and
Circumstance.

Do you know Sainte Beuve's Causeries? I think one of the most delightful
Books--a Volume of which I brought here, and makes me now write of it to
you. It is a Book worth having--worth buying--for you can read it more
than once, and twice. And I have taken up Don Quixote again: more
Evergreen still; in Spanish, as it must be read, I doubt.

Here is a Sheet of Paper already filled, with matters very little worthy
of sending over the Atlantic. But you will be glad of the Donne news, at
any rate. Do tell me ever so little of yourself in return.

Now my Eyes have had enough of this vile steel pen; and so have yours, I
should think: and I will mix a Glass of poor Sherry and Water, and fill a
Pipe, and think of you while I smoke it. Think of me sometimes as

Yours always sincerely,
E. F.G.

P.S. I shall venture this Letter with no further Address than I remember
now.

XVII.

LITTLE GRANGE: WOODBRIDGE, _May_ 2/74.

DEAR MRS. KEMBLE,

My Castle Clock has gone 9 p.m., and I myself am but half an hour home
from a Day to Lowestoft. Why I should begin a Letter to you under these
circumstances I scarce know. However, I have long been intending to
write: nay, actually did write half a Letter which I mislaid. What I
wanted to tell you was--and is--that Donne is going on very well: Mowbray
thinks he may be pronounced 'recovered.' You may have heard about him
from some other hand before this: I know you will be glad to hear it at
any time, from any quarter.

This my Castle had been named by me 'Grange Farm,' being formerly a
dependency of a more considerable Chateau on the hill above. But a fine
tall Woman, who has been staying two days, ordered me to call it 'Little
Grange.' So it must be. She came to meet a little Niece of mine: both
Annies: one tall as the other is short: both capital in Head and Heart: I
knew they would _fadge_ well: so they did: so we all did, waiting on
ourselves and on one another. Odd that I have another tip-top Annie on
my small list of Acquaintances--Annie Thackeray.

I wonder what Spring is like in America. We have had an April of really
'magnifique' Weather: but here is that vixen May with its N.E. airs. A
Nightingale however sings so close to my Bedroom that (the window being
ope