egitimate successor of poor Power.

Ever, my dear Wilkie, affectionately yours.

[Sidenote: Miss Mary Boyle.]

STATION HOTEL, YORK, _Friday, Sept. 10th, 1858._

DEAREST MEERY,

First let me tell you that all the magicians and spirits in your employ
have fulfilled the instructions of their wondrous mistress to
admiration. Flowers have fallen in my path wherever I have trod; and
when they rained upon me at Cork I was more amazed than you ever saw me.

Secondly, receive my hearty and loving thanks for that same. (Excuse a
little Irish in the turn of that sentence, but I can't help it).

Thirdly, I have written direct to Mr. Boddington, explaining that I am
bound to be in Edinburgh on the day when he courteously proposes to do
me honour.

I really cannot tell you how truly and tenderly I feel your letter, and
how gratified I am by its contents. Your truth and attachment are
always so precious to me that I can_not_ get my heart out on my sleeve
to show it you. It is like a child, and, at the sound of some familiar
voices, "goes and hides."

You know what an affection I have for Mrs. Watson, and how happy it made
me to see her again--younger, much, than when I first knew her in
Switzerland.

God bless you always!

Ever affectionately yours.

[Sidenote: Miss Hogarth.]

ROYAL HOTEL, SCARBOROUGH, _Sunday, Sept. 11th, 1858._

MY DEAREST GEORGY,

We had a very fine house indeed at York. All kinds of applications have
been made for another reading there, and no doubt it would be
exceedingly productive; but it cannot be done. At Harrogate yesterday;
the queerest place, with the strangest people in it, leading the oddest
lives of dancing, newspaper reading, and tables d'hote. The piety of
York obliging us to leave that place for this at six this morning, and
there being no night train from Harrogate, we had to engage a special
engine. We got to bed at one, and were up again before five; which,
after yesterday's fatigues, leaves me a little worn out at this present.

I have no accounts of this place as yet, nor have I received any letter
here. But the post of this morning is not yet delivered, I believe. We
have a charming room, overlooking the sea. Leech is here (living within
a few doors), with the partner of his bosom, and his young family. I
write at ten in the morning, having been here two hours; an