hfully.

[Sidenote: Rev. James White.]

BOULOGNE, _September 30th, 1853._

MY DEAR WHITE,

As you wickedly failed in your truth to the writer of books you adore, I
write something that I hoped to have said, and meant to have said, in
the confidence of the Pavilion among the trees.

Will you write another story for the Christmas No.? It will be exactly
(I mean the Xmas No.) on the same plan as the last.

I shall be at the office from Monday to Thursday, and shall hope to
receive a cheery "Yes," in reply.

Loves from all to all, and my particular love to Mrs. White.

Ever cordially yours.

[Sidenote: Mrs. Charles Dickens.]

HOTEL DE LONDRES, CHAMOUNIX,
_Thursday Night, 20th October, 1853._

MY DEAREST KATE,

We[55] came here last night after a very long journey over very bad
roads, from Geneva, and leave here (for Montigny, by the Tete Noire) at
6 to-morrow morning. Next morning early we mean to try the Simplon.

After breakfast to-day we ascended to the Mer de Glace--wonderfully
different at this time of the year from when we saw it--a great portion
of the ascent being covered with snow, and the climbing very difficult.
Regardless of my mule, I walked up and walked down again, to the great
admiration of the guides, who pronounced me "an Intrepid." The little
house at the top being closed for the winter, and Edward having
forgotten to carry any brandy, we had nothing to drink at the top--which
was a considerable disappointment to the Inimitable, who was streaming
with perspiration from head to foot. But we made a fire in the snow with
some sticks, and after a not too comfortable rest came down again. It
took a long time--from 10 to 3.

The appearance of Chamounix at this time of year is very remarkable. The
travellers are over for the season, the inns are generally shut up, all
the people who can afford it are moving off to Geneva, the snow is low
on the mountains, and the general desolation and grandeur
extraordinarily fine. I wanted to pass by the Col de Balme, but the snow
lies too deep upon it.

You would have been quite delighted if you could have seen the warmth of
our old Lausanne friends, and the heartiness with which they crowded
down on a fearfully bad morning to see us off. We passed the night at
the Ecu de Geneve, in the rooms once our old rooms--