“An admirable woman, and first class wife,” Tom told Octavia afterwards; so she said she would ask Mr. Purdy to arrange a divorce and they would have an exchange, she becoming Mrs. Purdy and Mrs. Purdy Countess of Chevenix for a while; but Tom would not agree to that.  Men are selfish, aren’t they, Mamma?

After lunch we were taken to see the pictures in the hall and different rooms, and some of them were really beautiful, and I have no doubt in a few years’ time, when Mr. Purdy has travelled more, and educated his eye, he really will collect a gallery worth having, and eliminate the atrocities.  His feeling was more to have a better collection than anyone else in Chicago, or indeed America, rather than the joy of the possession of the exquisite pictures themselves.  But even this spirit gets together lovely things, which will benefit future, and more highly cultured people; so it all has good in it.

They were so kind we could hardly get away to catch our train, and we have promised to go again if ever we pass this way.  The women after lunch talked among themselves, and were deeply intent and confidential when we got back to the drawing-room after seeing the pictures; but they made way for us and were most agreeable.  All of them had set views on every subject, not any hesitation or indecision, and they all used each other’s names in every sentence.  They were full of practical common sense, and rigid virtue; and did not worry about intellectual conversation.

At this moment the Vicomte has peeped in to call Octavia and me to dinner; we were resting in our drawing-room.  So I must stop.  I will post this to-morrow when we get to a big station.

Your affectionate daughter,

ELIZABETH.

Morning.

P.S.—­These sleeping cars are really wonderful.  Such a thing happened last night!  But it shows how comfortable the beds are, and how soundly people can sleep.  At the station where we stopped after dinner, two couples got in, an uncle and nephew, married to an aunt and niece; only the uncle’s wife was the niece, and the nephew’s the aunt, a plain elderly person with a fierce commanding glance and a mole on her upper lip, while he was a nice-looking boy with droopy grey eyes.  The train was very crowded, and they could only get two single berths—­lower ones, but they are quite wide enough for two people to sleep in at a pinch.  It appears the husbands went off to smoke while the wives undressed and got into bed, and when they returned the coloured conductor showed them to their places, naturally thinking, as they were the same name, the old ones were a pair and the young ones another.  And fancy, Mamma, they never found out till the morning, when the whole car was awakened by the old lady’s yells!  And the old gentleman flew out like Hopkins and wanted to nearly murder the conductor.  But it was not the least his fault, was it?  And the nephew, such a nice, generous fellow, gave the poor nigger twenty-five dollars to make up for being roughly handled.  The niece still slept on through all this noise, and Tom, who was passing at the time the old gentleman lifted the curtains to climb in there, said she looked the sweetest thing possible with her long eyelashes on her cheek.