your own face to mine. Besides, it is too much of a good thing to have both substance and shadow." The conjugal gallantry was delicate—and true.
I was delighted the next morning when I approached the window: it looks on a small but pleasant garden, opening into the Green Park. The fine old trees looked like familiar friends. In the distance were the towers of the Abbey, bathed with the golden tinge of early morning. I looked towards it, and thought of the happy evenings passed over the clasped volumes in which its annals are recorded. How glad I now am of all that we used to read together! I have now a thousand associations with you and the past, where otherwise there would be none.
My time is divided between visitors and dressmakers. Madame Legarde, the "glass of fashion and the nurse of form," (alias the most fashionable of milliners,) has comfortably assured me, "that my figure has great merit, and only requires cultivation:" this is to be done by tissues, brocades, and laces, which
