nd in her pocket, exclaiming, "I must give her something for
that, though!" Isn't that delicious?

Oh, H----! how hard it is to do right and be good! But to be sure,
"if to do were as easy as to know what were good to be done," etc.
How I wish I could have an hour's talk with you! I have so much to
say, and I have neither time nor paper to say it in; so I must
leave off.

Good-by, God bless you; pray look forward to the pleasure of seeing
me, and believe me ever

Your affectionate
F. A. K.

The house where I used to visit at Lea, in the neighborhood of
Blackheath, was a girls' school, kept by ladies of the name of Grimani,
in which my aunt Victoire Decamp was an assistant governess. These
ladies were descended from a noble Venetian family, of which the
Reverend Julian Young, their nephew, has given an account in his
extremely interesting and amusing memoir of his father; his mother,
Julia Grimani, being the sister of my kind friends, the directresses of
the Blackheath school. One of these, Bellina Grimani, a charming and
attractive woman, who was at one time attached to the household of the
ill-fated and ill-conducted Caroline of Brunswick, Princess of Wales,
died young and single. The elder Miss Grimani married a Mr. H---- within
a few years. Though I have never in the intervening fifty years met with
them, I have seen two ladies who were nieces of Miss Grimani, and pupils
in her school when I was a small visitor there. My principal
recollections connected with the place were the superior moral
excellence of one of these damsels, E---- B----, who was held up before
my unworthy eyes as a model of school-girl virtue, at once to shame and
encourage me; Bellina Grimani's sweet face and voice; some very fine
cedar trees on the lawn, and a picture in the drawing-room of Prospero
with his three-year-old Miranda in a boat in the midst of a raging sea,
which work of art used to shake my childish bosom with a tragical
passion of terror and pity, invariably ending in bitter tears. I was
much spoiled and very happy during my visits to Lea, and had a blissful
recollection of the house, garden, and whole place that justified my
regret in not being able, while staying at Blackheath fifteen years
after, to find or identify it.

CHAPTER XIV.

JAMES STREET, BUCKING