her
life. Of course the letter was full of "my husband," and the signature
was no longer the impulsive, girlish--"With a thousand kisses, my
darling, ever your own Teresita," but a decorous and matronly ending:
"Yours affectionately, Teresa Carreno Sauret."

Two more letters by the evening mail; one having the features of the
"Re Galantuomo" upon the postage stamps, is from a young American music
student in Florence, a pupil of Hans Von Buelow, who will, upon her
return to her own country, be known as one of our finest amateur
pianists.

There is also a letter from our estimable friend, Miss Booth, the
accomplished Editress of Harper's Bazar. She will spend next Saturday
with us, accompanied by her friend, Mrs. Wright.

_September 20_.

Ida went down to the city yesterday, to see both her lawyer and
dress-maker, saying that she would return by the half past six o'clock
train. We went down accordingly to meet the cars, but she did not
arrive upon them; a telegram, however, was shortly sent up to the
house, announcing that she would come on the eight o'clock train,
accompanied by Mrs. and Miss Wiss.

"Mrs. Wiss!" exclaimed mamma, upon reading the telegram, "who can she
be? I do not know any such person."

Gabrielle could not remember any one by the name of Wiss among Ida's
friends, and suggested that the ladies might be old friends of her
father's, whom Ida had never before seen; so remarking that the eight
o'clock train was a late one for ladies to travel upon alone, mamma
rang for Minna, and told her to delay our tea an hour and a half longer.

When we heard the footsteps of the travellers upon the piazza, we all
went out with some curiosity to meet our unknown visitors. For a
moment we were speechless, as we recognized in the matron of the party,
Ida's charming Southern friend, Mrs. Ives, and in the tall young man
(her son) who accompanied her, the supposed Miss Wiss. How the
telegraph operator could have so confused the names, no one could
imagine.

Mrs. Ives is a brilliant talker, and a woman of great polish and high
family connections. She has lived North for several years, but will
return to Baltimore this winter to our great regret, for her
picturesque home near the Manhattanville Convent was a most delightful
place to spend an hour, while listening to the entertaining
conversation of the hostess, and the exquisite harp-playing of her
sister.

_September 25_.

A letter this morning from