ascended, throwing roses into the carriage, asking for sous. Moreover, our compagnon de voyage was a very intelligent and gentlemanlike Frenchman; but all my stock of admiration ended at the very pretty town of Abbeville. I had not a notion that fatigue could have so completely paralysed me. I was scarcely sensible when we arrived at Paris, and was just lifted out of the diligence. Since then the extent of my travels has been from the bed to the sofa. We have very pleasant apartments, looking on the Boulevards—such a gay scene. It seems so odd to see the people walking about in caps, looking so neat, and I must add so clean. Mercy on the French carriages and horses; they make such a clatter; drive far more with their tongues than the reins. We have delicious dinners, if I could but eat, which at present is an impossibility. I am still a horrid figure with my sea and sunburning. Miss Gibbon, a very pretty Scotch girl, a cousin of Miss Turin's, is staying with us, very agreeable to me, for she is so kind, and quite au fait at manners, customs, language, &c. I value a companion now. Poor Miss Turin is quite confined to her bed; but sends her love to you. I hope that my next letter will be more amusing; this is only a kind remembrance. Pray, if you can do anything polite by the Misses Lance, do.*[1] Any tickets will be so acceptable while Miss Castleman is staying with them. Write to me by Mr. Huntly Gordon, H. M. Stationery Office, Buckingham Gate, or you have my address in the date.
"Be sure wafer, and thin paper. I shall be very glad to see England again.
"Yours most truly,
"L. E. LANDON."
- ↑ * The maiden ladies who kept house in Hans Place with an old father who died of age while Miss Landon stayed there. Her attentions to the old man were beautiful; and the attachment of the sisters to her, and hers to them, were most cordial.
