scene of a story in
Cornwall; Mr. Sandys, himself a Cornishman, having proposed to send him
some books to help him as to the dialect.

[Sidenote: The Hon. Mrs. Watson.]

PARIS, 48, RUE DE COURCELLES, _Jan. 25th, 1847._

MY DEAR MRS. WATSON,

I cannot allow your wandering lord to return to your--I suppose "arms"
is not improper--arms, then, without thanking you in half-a-dozen words
for your letter, and assuring you that I had great interest and pleasure
in its receipt, and that I say Amen to all _you_ say of our happy past
and hopeful future. There is a picture of Lausanne--St. Bernard--the
tavern by the little lake between Lausanne and Vevay, which is kept by
that drunken dog whom Haldimand believes to be so sober--and of many
other such scenes, within doors and without--that rises up to my mind
very often, and in the quiet pleasure of its aspect rather daunts me, as
compared with the reality of a stirring life; but, please God, we will
have some more pleasant days, and go up some more mountains, somewhere,
and laugh together, at somebody, and form the same delightful little
circle again, somehow.

I quite agree with you about the illustrations to the little Christmas
book. I was delighted with yours. Your good lord before-mentioned will
inform you that it hangs up over my chair in the drawing-room here; and
when you come to England (after I have seen you again in Lausanne) I
will show it you in my little study at home, quietly thanking you on the
bookcase. Then we will go and see some of Turner's recent pictures, and
decide that question to Haldimand's utmost confusion.

You will find Watson looking wonderfully well, I think. When he was
first here, on his way to England, he took an extraordinary bath, in
which he was rubbed all over with chemical compounds, and had everything
done to him that could be invented for seven francs. It _may_ be the
influence of this treatment that I see in his face, but I think it's the
prospect of coming back to Elysee. All I can say is, that when _I_ come
that way, and find myself among those friends again, I expect to be
perfectly lovely--a kind of Glorious Apollo, radiant and shining with
joy.

Kate and her sister send all kinds of love in this hasty packet, and I
am always, my dear Mrs. Watson,

Faithfully yours.

[Sidenote: Rev. Edward Tagart.]

PARIS, 48, RUE DE COURCELLES, ST. HO