we left Belfast, and a sea-beach
walk, and a two o'clock dinner, and a seven hours' railway ride since, I
am--as we say here--"a thrifle weary." But I really am in wonderful
force, considering the work. For which I am, as I ought to be, very
thankful.

Arthur was exceedingly unwell last night--could not cheer up at all. He
was so very unwell that he left the hall(!) and became invisible after
my five minutes' rest. I found him at the hotel in a jacket and
slippers, and with a hot bath just ready. He was in the last stage of
prostration. The local agent was with me, and proposed that he (the
wretched Arthur) should go to his office and balance the accounts then
and there. He went, in the jacket and slippers, and came back in twenty
minutes, _perfectly well_, in consequence of the admirable balance. He
is now sitting opposite to me ON THE BAG OF SILVER, forty pounds (it
must be dreadfully hard), writing to Boulogne.

I suppose it is clear that the next letter I write is Katie's. Either
from Cork or from Limerick, it shall report further. At Limerick I read
in the theatre, there being no other place.

Best love to Mamie and Katie, and dear Plorn, and all the boys left when
this comes to Gad's Hill; also to my dear good Anne, and her little
woman.

Ever affectionately.

[Sidenote: Mr. W. Wilkie Collins.]

GAD'S HILL PLACE, HIGHAM BY ROCHESTER, KENT,
_Monday, Sept. 6th, 1858._

MY DEAR WILKIE,

First, let me report myself here for something less than eight-and-forty
hours. I come last (and direct--a pretty hard journey) from Limerick.
The success in Ireland has been immense.

The work is very hard, sometimes overpowering; but I am none the worse
for it, and arrived here quite fresh.

Secondly, will you let me recommend the enclosed letter from Wigan, as
the groundwork of a capital article, in your way, for H. W.? There is
not the least objection to a plain reference to him, or to Phelps, to
whom the same thing happened a year or two ago, near Islington, in the
case of a clever and capital little daughter of his. I think it a
capital opportunity for a discourse on gentility, with a glance at those
other schools which advertise that the "sons of gentlemen only" are
admitted, and a just recognition of the greater liberality of our public
schools. There are tradesmen's sons at Eton, and Charles Kean w