n void
space, and is irredeemably lost. I have seven thousand pounds in the New
Orleans banks, which I have given my father for his life. Those banks,
it is said, are sound, and will ere long resume specie payments, and
give dividends to their stockholders. Amen, so be it. It is affirmed
that Mr. Biddle's prosecution will lead to nothing, but that the state
of Pennsylvania will pay its debts, means to do so, and will be able to
do so without any difficulty.... God bless you, dear Harriet. Write to
me soon again, for, though I do hate answering you, I hate worse not
hearing from you.

Ever yours,
FANNY.

I am glad you liked "Les Maitres Mosaistes;" I think it charming. Thank
you for your "Enfant du Peuple." I have been trying some Paul de Kock,
but _cannot_ get on with it.

[Of Madame George Sand's few unobjectionable books, "Les Maitres
Mosaistes" seems to me the best. As an historical picture of Venice
and its glorious period of supremacy in art, it is admirable. As a
pathetic human history, it is excellent; with this drawback,
however, that in it the author has avoided the subject of the
relations between the sexes--her invariable rock ahead, both morally
and artistically; and it is by the entire omission of the important
element of love that this work of hers is free from the reproach the
author never escapes when she treats of it. It is a great pity her
fine genius has so deep a flaw.]

HARLEY STREET, February 11th, 1842.
MY DEAREST HARRIET,

... I want to know if you can come to us on the 20th of this month,
instead of the 1st of March, as I expected you. I believe I told you
that the Duke of Rutland, when we met him at the Arkwrights', at Sutton,
gave us all a very kind invitation to Belvoir, which we accepted, and
have been expecting since that some more definite intimation when the
time of our visit would be convenient. He called here the other day, but
we were none of us at home, and this morning we and my father heard from
him, recalling our promise to go to Belvoir, and begging us to fix any
time between this and the month of April. Now, the only time when my
sister can go, poor child! is during Passion Week; and as I am very
anxious that she should have the refreshment of a week in the country,
and her being with us will be a grea