moment of my seeing him.

I have heard nothing more of my engagement at the Princess's Theatre,
and begin to think that perhaps I shall not hear anything more about it;
but I scarcely expected to do so before the end of November, because
till then I should not be wanted there, and I dare say the manager will
leave me as long a time as possible to consider of his offers and my
acceptance or rejection of them.

I am charmed with my hostess. She is exceedingly pretty--a great virtue,
as you know, in my estimation; she is upright, true, pious, and
uncommonly reasonable and judicious: am I not right to be charmed with
her? Then, too, she is most kind, gentle, considerate, and affectionate
to me, and esteems me, as I believe I have before told you, far beyond
my deserts--who can resist _that_ bribe?

Upon several points upon which I differ from people's usual modes of
thinking and feeling, I find there is a great similarity in our views;
and I feel as if I might thank God for an addition to the treasure of
excellent people's love that He has comforted my life withal; and count
another friend added to those who have been such infinite blessings to
me.

I am left to conclude that Mrs. Grote was so absorbed in her interest in
Mademoiselle Jenny Lind that I vanished utterly from her mind; for after
coming to see me just before I went down to Bannisters and pressing me
to go to the Beeches when I returned, I never heard another word about
it, or even set eyes upon her again.

I have been with your precious Dorothy, who came, both to my joy and
sorrow, to meet me at the railroad station, with her poor face covered
with that hideous respirator, and speaking when she had it off as if she
still had it on, her voice was so pale and dim. It grieved me that she
should have made an exertion that I feared might injure her, and yet I
was delighted to see her and most grateful for her extreme kindness in
thus troubling herself. She came, too, with her hands full of flowers
(my "good angels" brought to me by your "good angel," which seemed to me
pretty and proper, was it not?), and carried me straight off to Fulford
[Miss Wilson's home near York], where, in spite of much pain and
exhaustion consequent upon the long railroad journey, I passed a blessed
few hours with her, though our talk inevitably was of much sorrow....

I have not had time yet to see anything of the condition of the people
about this place. The villages and cottages w