have
missed these five years--no, not for any hopes; they are my own.

"_Nov. 30._--I got through my Chatham lecture very fairly, though
almost all my apparatus went astray. I dined at the mess, and got home
to Isleworth the same evening; your father very kindly sitting up for
me.

"_Dec. 1._--Back at dear Claygate. Many cuttings flourish, especially
those which do honour to your hand. Your Californian annuals are up
and about. Badger is fat, the grass green....

"_Dec. 3._--Odden will not talk of you, while you are away, having
inherited, as I suspect, his father's way of declining to consider a
subject which is painful, as your absence is.... I certainly should
like to learn Greek, and I think it would be a capital pastime for the
long winter evenings.... How things are misrated! I declare croquet is
a noble occupation compared to the pursuits of business men. As for
so-called idleness--that is, one form of it--I vow it is the noblest
aim of man. When idle, one can love, one can be good, feel kindly to
all, devote oneself to others, be thankful for existence, educate
one's mind, one's heart, one's body. When busy, as I am busy now or
have been busy to-day, one feels just as you sometimes felt when you
were too busy, owing to want of servants.

"_Dec. 5._--On Sunday I was at Isleworth, chiefly engaged in playing
with Odden. We had the most enchanting walk together through the
brickfields. It was very muddy, and, as he remarked, not fit for
Nanna, but fit for us _men_. The dreary waste of bared earth, thatched
sheds and standing water was a paradise to him; and when we walked up
planks to deserted mixing and crushing mills, and actually saw where
the clay was stirred with long iron prongs, and chalk or lime ground
with 'a tind of a mill,' his expression of contentment and triumphant
heroism knew no limit to its beauty. Of course on returning I found
Mrs. Austin looking out at the door in an anxious manner, and thinking
we had been out quite long enough.... I am reading Don Quixote
chiefly, and am his fervent admirer, but I am so sorry he did not
place his affections on a Dulcinea of somewhat worthier stamp. In fact
I think there must be a mistake about it. Don Quixote might and would
serve his lady in most preposterous fashion, but I am sure he would
have chosen a lady of merit. He imagined her to be such, no doubt,
and drew a charming picture