is aristocratic in himself; money doesn't do
it, and otherwise--may the Lord keep me in humility, but here the
temptation is strong to be content with one's self.

Countess Pueckler, sister of the Countess Stolberg, resides at
Weistritz, near Schweidnitz. Now, farewell; I must go out. God's
blessing be with you. Give F. and M. much love. Your most faithful v.
B.

Frankfort, May 27, '51.

_My Darling_,--* * * On Friday there was a ball at Lady Cowley's,
which lasted until five in the morning; they all dance here as if
possessed; the oldest delegates of fifty, with white hair, danced to
the end of the cotillion, in the sweat of their brows. At midnight
"God Save the Queen" was solemnly played, because her birthday was
dawning, and it was all a transparency of English coats-of-arms and
colors from top to bottom, and very many odd, stiff ladies, who "lisp
English when they lie," as I read once upon a time the translation of
that passage in _Faust_; that is to say, they all have a passion for
talking bad French, and I am altogether forgetting my English, as I
have discovered to my dismay. * * * Oftentimes I feel terribly
homesick, and that is to me an agreeable sadness, for otherwise I seem
to myself so aged, so dryly resigned and documentary, as if I were
only pasted on a piece of card-board. * * * Give your dear parents my
heartfelt love, and kiss Annie's pretty hand for me, because she stays
with you so sweetly-Now, I shall not write another word until I have a
letter from you in hand. Yesterday I attended the Lutheran church
here; a not very gifted, but devout, minister; the audience consisted,
apart from myself, of just twenty two women, and my appearance was
visibly an event. God bless and keep you and the children.

Your most faithful v.B.

[Illustration: PRINCESS BISMARCK]

Frankfort, Ascension Day--Evening.

(Postmarked Berlin, June 1, '51.)

_My Heart_,--How good it is of you all that, directly after I had
mailed my complaint of lack of news, there arrives such a shower of
letters. A thousand thanks to your dear parents, and I shall answer
dad tomorrow, when I am less hurried than today, for on this dear
holiday, after a big dinner, I must still write some long despatches.
I was at the French church today, where at least there was more
congregation and devotion, and the minister was passable, too, but I
cannot talk French with my dear, faithful Lord and Saviour; it seems
to me ungrateful. For the re