ches I am poorer than when I lived
with you; for I have nothing to give away. When I found that the great
accomplishments they taught me would not procure me the power of doing
the smallest good, I had recourse to my needle, of which happily you had
taught me the use. I send several pairs of stockings of my own making
for you and my mamma Margaret, a cap for Domingo, and one of my red
handkerchiefs for Mary. I also send with this packet some kernels, and
seeds of various kinds of fruits which I gathered in the abbey park
during my hours of recreation. I have also sent a few seeds of violets,
daisies, buttercups, poppies and scabious, which I picked up in the
fields. There are much more beautiful flowers in the meadows of this
country than in ours, but nobody cares for them. I am sure that you and
my mamma Margaret will be better pleased with this bag of seeds, than
you were with the bag of piastres, which was the cause of our separation
and of my tears. It will give me great delight if you should one day
see apple trees growing by the side of our plantains, and elms blending
their foliage with that of our cocoa trees. You will fancy yourself in
Normandy, which you love so much.

"You desired me to relate to you my joys and my griefs. I have no
joys far from you. As far as my griefs, I endeavour to soothe them by
reflecting that I am in the situation in which it was the will of God
that you should place me. But my greatest affliction is, that no one
here speaks to me of you, and that I cannot speak of you to any one. My
femmes de chambre, or rather those of my aunt, for they belong more
to her than to me, told me the other day, when I wished to turn the
conversation upon the objects most dear to me: 'Remember, mademoiselle,
that you are a French woman, and must forget that land of savages.' Ah!
sooner will I forget myself, than forget the spot on which I was
born and where you dwell! It is this country which is to me a land of
savages, for I live alone, having no one to whom I can impart those
feelings of tenderness for you which I shall bear with me to the grave.
I am,

"My dearest and beloved mother,

"Your affectionate and dutiful daughter,

"VIRGINIE DE LA TOUR."

"I recommend to your goodness Mary and Domingo, who took so much care of
my infancy; caress Fidele for me, who found me in the wood."

Paul was astonished that Virginia had not said one word of him,--she,
who had not forgotten even the house-dog. But