e sister, was most bitter.... John came down to Greenwich
with us, but would not come on board the steamboat. He stood on the
shore and I at the ship's side, looking at what I knew was him,
though my eyes could distinguish none of his features from the
distance. My poor mother stood crying by my side, and bade me send
him away. I gave him one signal, which he returned, and then ran up
the beach, and was gone!--gone for two years, perhaps more; perhaps
gone from me forever in this world!...

We shall be in Liverpool on Monday morning, the 16th of July, and
go to Radley's Hotel, where I hope we shall find you on our
arrival. My father is pretty well, in spite of all the late
anxieties and annoyances he has had to wade through. In the course
of the day preceding our departure from London two arrests were
served upon him by creditors of the theater, who, I suppose, think
when he is gone the whole concern must collapse and fall to pieces,
and I began to think some means would be devised to prevent our
leaving England after all. Our parting on Wednesday morning was, as
I told you, most miserable.... My poor mother was braver than I had
expected; but her parting from us, poor thing, is yet to come.

I found a letter from Emily Fitzhugh here, inclosing one as an
introduction to a lady in New York, who had once been her
friend.... Edinburgh is lovely and dear, and peace and quiet and
repose are always found by me near my dear Mrs. Harry Siddons; but
my heart is, oh, so sad!... Pray answer this directly. The time is
at hand when the quickest "directly" in our correspondence will be
three months.

Ever your affectionate
F. A. K.

_Monday, 2d._--My father and I went to the theater to rehearse
"Romeo and Juliet." In the evening the house was very fair,
considering how much the hot weather is against us; but of all the
comfortless people to act to, commend me to an Edinburgh audience.
Their undemonstrativeness, too, is something more than mere
critical difficulty to be pleased; there is a want of kindliness in
the cold, discourteous way in which they allow a stranger to appear
before them without ever affording him the slightest token of their
readiness to accept the efforts ma