ter, though I hold my own opinion still of the merit of
the Picture part of the Show. Enough! as we Tragic Writers say: it is
such a morning as I would not have sacrificed indoors or in
letter-writing to any one but yourself, and on the subject named.

BELIEVE ME YOURS SINCERELY.

LXVII.

WOODBRIDGE: _Decr._ 10, [1879.]

MY DEAR LADY,

Pray let me know how you have fared thus far through Winter--which began
so early, and promises to continue so long. Even in Jersey Fred.
Tennyson writes me it is all Snow and N.E. wind: and he says the North of
Italy is blocked up with Snow. You may imagine that we are no better off
in the East of England. How is it in London, and with yourself in Queen
Anne's Mansions? I fancy that you walk up and down that ante-room of
yours for a regular time, as I force myself to do on a Landing-place in
this house when I cannot get out upon what I call my Quarter-deck: a walk
along a hedge by the upper part of a field which 'dominates' (as the
phrase now goes) over my House and Garden. But I have for the last
Fortnight had Lumbago, which makes it much easier to sit down than to get
up again. However, the time goes, and I am surprised to find Sunday come
round again. (Here is my funny little Reader come--to give me 'All the
Year Round' and Sam Slick.)

_Friday_.

I suppose I should have finished this Letter in the way it begins, but by
this noon's post comes a note from my Brother-in-law, De Soyres, telling
me that his wife Andalusia died yesterday. {168} She had somewhile
suffered with a weak Heart, and this sudden and extreme cold paralysed
what vitality it had. But yesterday I had posted her a Letter
re-enclosing two Photographs of her Grand Children whom she was very fond
and proud of; and that Letter is too late, you see. Now, none but Jane
Wilkinson and E. F.G. remain of the many more that you remember, and
always looked on with kindly regard. This news cuts my Letter shorter
than it would have been; nevertheless pray let me know how you yourself
are: and believe me yours

Ever and truly,
E. F.G.

I have had no thought of going to London yet: but I shall never go in
future without paying a Visit to you, if you like it. I know not how
Mrs. Edwards' Exhibition of her Husband's Pictures succeeds: I begged her
to leave such a scheme alone; I cannot admire his Pictures now he is gone
more than I did when he was here; but I hope that others will prove me to
be a bad