eak the inimitable hand of nature
which formed them: I want to transport this fairy ground to England.

I sigh when I pass any particularly charming spot; I feel a
tenderness beyond what inanimate objects seem to merit.

I must pay one more visit to the naiads of Montmorenci.

Eleven at night.

I am just come from the general's assembly; where, I should have
told you, I was this day fortnight announced _Madame Fitzgerald_,
to the great mortification of two or three cats, who had very
sagaciously determined, that Fitzgerald had too much understanding ever
to think of such a flirting, coquetish creature as a wife.

I was grave at the assembly to-night, in spite of all the pains I
took to be otherwise: I was hurt at the idea it would probably be
_the last_ at which I should be; I felt a kind of concern at parting,
not only with the few I loved, but with those who had till to-night
been indifferent to me.

There is something affecting in the idea of _the last time_ of
seeing even those persons or places, for which we have no particular
affection.

I go to-morrow to take leave of the nuns, at the Ursuline convent; I
suppose I shall carry this melancholy idea with me there, and be hurt
at seeing them too _for the last time_.

I pay visits every day amongst the peasants, who are very fond of
me. I talk to them of their farms, give money to their children, and
teach their wives to be good huswives: I am the idol of the country
people five miles round, who declare me the most amiable, most generous
woman in the world, and think it a thousand pities I should be damned.

Adieu! say every thing for me to my sweet friends, if arrived.

7th, Eleven o'clock.

I have this moment a large packet of letters for Emily from Mrs.
Melmoth, which I intend to take the care of myself, as I hope to be in
England almost as soon as this.

Good morrow!
Yours ever, &c.
A. Fitzgerald.

Three o'clock.

I am just come from visiting the nuns; they expressed great concern
at my leaving Canada, and promised me their prayers on my voyage; for
which proof of affection, though a good protestant, I thanked them very
sincerely.

I wished exceedingly to have brought some of them away with me; my
nun, as they call the amiable girl I saw take the veil, paid me the
flattering tribute of a tear at parting; her fine eyes had a concern in
them, which affected me extremely.

I was not less pleased with the affection the late s