Dear Mrs. Jameson, this is a short and stupid letter, but I have
been working awfully hard, and have not been well for the past
month, and am not capable of much exertion. It is quite a novelty
to me, and not an agreeable one, to feel myself weak, and worn out,
and good for nothing. Good-by; write to me from some of your
halting-places, and believe me ever yours truly,

F. A. K.

I noted the altered frontispiece of my little book.

BOSTON, April 16, 1834.
DEAR MRS. JAMESON,

I received a kind and interesting letter from you, dated "Munich,"
some time past, and lately another from London, telling me of the
alarm you experienced with regard to your father's health, and your
sudden return from Germany, which I regretted very much, for
selfish as well as sympathetic motives. You were not only enjoying
yourself there, but were gathering materials for the enjoyment of
others; and I am as loath to lose the benefit of your labors as
sorry that your pleasant holiday was thus interrupted.

It is now probable, unless the Atlantic should like me better going
than it did coming, and that it should take me to its bosom, that I
may be in London in July, when I hope I shall find you there.... I
am coming back to England, after all, and shall, I think, remain on
the stage another year....

I received, a few days ago, a letter from dear H----, in which she
mentioned that you had an intention of writing a memoir or
biographical sketch of "the Kemble family," in which, if I
understood her right, you thought of introducing the notice which
you wrote for Hayter's drawings of me in Juliet. She said that you
wished to know whether I had any objection or dislike to your doing
so, and I answered directly to yourself, "None in the world." I had
but one fault to find with that notice of me, that it was far too
full of praise; I thought it so sincerely. But, without wishing to
enter into any discussion about my merits or your partiality, I can
only repeat that you are free to write of me what you will, and as
you will; but, for your own sake, I wish you to remember that
praise is, to the majority of readers, a much more vapid thing than
censure, and that if you could