h! I must tell you of a delightful adventure which befell me the
other night while I was acting in "The Grecian Daughter." Mr.
Abbot, who personates my husband, Phocion, at a certain part of the
play where we have to embrace, thought fit to clasp me so
energetically in his arms that he threw me down, and fell down
himself. I fell seated, with all my draperies in most modest order,
which was very fortunate, but certainly I never was more frightened
or confused. However, I soon recovered my presence of mind, and
helped my better half on with his part, for he was quite aghast,
poor man, at his own exploit, and I do believe would have been
standing with his eyes and mouth wide open to this moment, if I had
not managed to proceed with the scene somehow and anyhow.

I gave the commission for your print of me, dear H----, to
Colnaghi, and I hope you will like it, and that the more you look
at it the stronger the likeness will appear to you. Was my brother
John returned from Germany, when last I wrote to you? I forget.
However, he has just left us to take his degree at Cambridge,
previous to being ordained. Henry, too, returned yesterday to
Paris, so that the house is in mourning for its liveliest inmates.
I continue quite well, and indeed I think my work agrees with me;
or if I am a little tired with acting, why, a night's dancing soon
sets me right again. T---- B---- is in town, and came to see me the
other day. I like her; she is a gentle, nice person; she is going
back in a week to Cassiobury. How I wish you and I had wings, and
that Heath Farm belonged to us! It is coming to the time of year
when we first became acquainted; and, besides all its associations
of kindly feeling and affectionate friendship, your image is
connected in my mind with all the pleasantest things in nature--the
spring, May blossoms, glow-worms, "bright hill and bosky dell;" and
it dates from somewhere "twixt the last violet and the earliest
rose," which is not a quotation, though I have put it in inverted
commas, but something that just came to the tip of my pen and looks
like poetry. I must leave off now, for I got leave to stay at home
to-night to write to you instead of going to the opera, with many
injunctions that I would go to bed early; so, now it is late, I
must do so. Go