is to be
christened Forester, in honor of my beloved American steed, whom he
somewhat resembles....

Considering our weather down here in Hertfordshire, I am afraid you must
have most dismal skies at Ambleside, where you are generally so misty
and damp; I am sure I recollect no English summer like this. As for poor
Adelaide, she is all but frozen to death, and creeps about, lamenting
for the sun, in a most piteous fashion imaginable.

I have had a letter from Cecilia Combe within the last two days,
anticipating meeting us on the Rhine, either at Godesberg, where she now
is, or at Bonn, where she expects to pass some time soon. She complains
of dulness, but accuses the weather, which she says is horrible.
By-the-by, of Cecy and Mr. Combe I have now got the report containing
the account of Laura Bridgman (the deaf, dumb, and blind girl of whom he
speaks), and when you come to me you shall see it; it is marvellous--a
perfect miracle of Christian love.

Catherine Sedgwick's book (some notes of her visit to Europe) has just
come out, and I am reading it again, having read the manuscript journal
when first she returned home; a record, of course, of far more interest
than the pruned and pared version of it which she gives to the public. I
am also reading an excellent article in the last _Edinburgh_, on the
society of Port Royal, which I find immensely interesting. I must now
run out for a walk. It is Sunday, and the horses are not used, and I
must acquire some exercise, through the agency of my own legs, before
dinner. I have walked two miles this morning, to be sure; but that was
to and from church, and should not count. God bless you, dearest
Harriet.

Ever yours,
FANNY.

LIEGE, Thursday, August 26th, 1841.
MY DEAREST HARRIET,

We have just returned from a lionizing drive about Liege, a city of
which my liveliest impressions, before I saw it, were derived from
Scott's novel of "Quentin Durward," and in which the part now remaining
of what existed in his time is all that much interests me.

I do not know whether in your peregrinations you ever visited this
place; if you did, I hope you duly admired the palace of the prince
bishop (formerly), now the Palais de Justice, which is one of the most
picturesque remnants of ancient architecture I have seen in this land of
them.

Except this