ot yet got rid of the
erysipelas in her legs, and complained of intense headache. Poor
woman! she suffers dreadfully.... Cecilia's life has been one
enduring devotion and self-sacrifice. I cannot help wishing, for
both their sakes, that the period of her mother's infirmity and
physical decay may be shortened. I received a charming letter from
Theodosia yesterday, accompanying a still more charming basketful
of delicious flowers from dear Cassiobury--how much nicer they are
than human beings! I don't believe I belong to man (or woman) kind,
I like so many things--the whole material universe, for
example--better than what one calls one's fellow-creatures. She
told me that old Foster (you remember the old cottager in
Cassiobury Park) was dying. The news contrasted sadly with the
sweet, fresh, living blossoms that it came with. The last time that
I saw that old man I sat with him under his porch on a bright sunny
evening, talking, laughing, winding wreaths round his hat, and
singing to him, and that is the last I shall ever see of him. He
was a remarkable old man, and made a strong impression on my fancy
in the course of our short acquaintance. There was a strong and
vivid _remnant_ of mind in him surviving the contest with ninety
and odd years of existence; his manner was quaint and rustic
without a tinge of vulgarity; he is fastened to my memory by a
certain wreath of flowers and sunset light upon the brook that ran
in front of his cottage, and the smell of some sweet roses that
grew over it, and I shall never forget him.

I went to the opera the other night and saw Pasta's "Medea" for the
first time. I shall not trouble you with any ecstasies, because,
luckily for you, my admiration for her is quite indescribable; but
I have seen grace and majesty as perfect as I can conceive, and so
saying I close my account of my impressions. I fancied I was
slightly disappointed in Taglioni, whose dancing followed Pasta's
singing, but I suppose the magnificent tragical performance I had
just witnessed had numbed as it were my power of appreciation of
her grace and elegance, and yet she seemed to me like a _dancing
flower_; so you see I must have like her very much.

God bless you, dear; pray write to me very soon. I want some
consolation for not seeing you,