st, they sang pretty hymns, these insipid
Calvinists, almost in the sweet Catholic tune which you always
play. * * *

Your most faithful v.B.

Your letter had been opened again.

Frankfort, June 4, '51.

_My Darling_,--Were you not going to write to me any more? I was
resolved even yesterday not to put pen to paper until I should have a
letter from you, but, anyway, I will be good, and tell you that I am
well and love you, even if you let your little inkstand dry up. I long
exceedingly for you and the children, and for quiet, comfortable
domesticity at Schoenhausen or Reinfeld. As soon as I have finished my
hitherto rather unimportant occupations, my empty lodgings, and the
whole dreary world behind, face me, and I know not where to set my
foot, for there is nothing which particularly attracts me. Day before
yesterday I ate at Biberich, with the Duke of Nassau, the first fresh
herrings and the first strawberries and raspberries of the season. It
is certainly a delightful piece of earth along the Rhine, and I looked
pensively from the castle windows over to the red cathedral of
Mayence, which, almost four years ago, we both went to see very early
in the morning, in times for which we were not then sufficiently
grateful to God; I remembered how, on board the steamer, the blue
hills before us, we passed by the Duke's handsome castle, without
dreaming how and why I should stand there at the window this year, an
old wig of a Minister before me, who unravelled his views on national
polities, while I was thinking, with an occasional absent-minded
"Quite so," of our trip of '47, and sought with my eyes the spot on
the Mayence bridge whence you, in your little Geneva coat, embarked on
the steamer; and then I thought of Geneva. * * * Countess Thun
unfortunately left on Sunday for Tetschen, to spend three months with
her father-in-law. She is a kindly lady, womanly and devout (Catholic,
very), attributes which do not grace the women here in general; her
husband gambles and flirts, I believe, more so than is agreeable to
her. I hardly believe that you will like her, but she is one of the
better specimens of women of the great world, even though that just
proves to me that a woman of that world would not have been suitable
for me; I like her to associate with, but not to marry. Perhaps, by
comparing her with the others of her sort, you will learn to
appreciate her. The gentlemen are unendurable. The moment I accost one
he as