e Caroline. But this regret is absurd: I could not, of course,
leave my father with not a soul in the house to attend to the calls of
the parishioners or to pour out his tea.

July 15.--A letter from Caroline to-day. It is very strange that she
tells me nothing which I expected her to tell--only trivial details. She
seems dazzled by the brilliancy of Paris--which no doubt appears still
more brilliant to her from the fact of her only being able to obtain
occasional glimpses of it. She would see that Paris, too, has a seamy
side if you live there. I was not aware that the Marlets knew so many
people. If, as mother has said, they went to reside at Versailles for
reasons of economy, they will not effect much in that direction while
they make a practice of entertaining all the acquaintances who happen to
be in their neighbourhood. They do not confine their hospitalities to
English people, either. I wonder who this M. de la Feste is, in whom
Caroline says my mother is so much interested.

July 18.--Another letter from Caroline. I have learnt from this epistle,
that M. Charles de la Feste is 'only one of the many friends of the
Marlets'; that though a Frenchman by birth, and now again temporarily at
Versailles, he has lived in England many many years; that he is a
talented landscape and marine painter, and has exhibited at the Salon,
and I think in London. His style and subjects are considered somewhat
peculiar in Paris--rather English than Continental. I have not as yet
learnt his age, or his condition, married or single. From the tone and
nature of her remarks about him he sometimes seems to be a middle-aged
family man, sometimes quite the reverse. From his nomadic habits I
should say the latter is the most likely. He has travelled and seen a
great deal, she tells me, and knows more about English literature than
she knows herself.

July 21.--Letter from Caroline. Query: Is 'a friend of ours and the
Marlets,' of whom she now anonymously and mysteriously speaks, the same
personage as the 'M. de la Feste' of her former letters? He must be the
same, I think, from his pursuits. If so, whence this sudden change of
tone? . . . I have been lost in thought for at least a quarter of an hour
since writing the preceding sentence. Suppose my dear sister is falling
in love with this young man--there is no longer any doubt about his age;
what a very awkward, risky thing for her! I do hope that my mother has
an eye on t