Wills’s absence (in Sussex, and getting no better there as yet) so overwhelms me with business that I can scarcely get through it.

“Miss me?  Ah, my dear fellow, but how do I miss you! We talk about you both at Gad’s Hill every day of our lives.  And I never see the place looking very pretty indeed, or hear the birds sing all day long and the nightingales all night, without restlessly wishing that you were both there.

    “With best love, and truest and most enduring regard, ever, my dear
    Fields,

    “Your most affectionate,

    “C.D.”

    “....  I hope you will receive by Saturday’s Cunard a case
    containing: 

    1.  A trifling supply of the pen-knibs that suited your hand. 2.  A
    do. of unfailing medicine for cockroaches. 3.  Mrs. Gamp, for ——.

“The case is addressed to you at Bleecker Street, New York.  If it should be delayed for the knibs (or nibs) promised to-morrow, and should be too late for the Cunard packet, it will in that case come by the next following Inman steamer.

“Everything here looks lovely, and I find it (you will be surprised to hear) really a pretty place!  I have seen No Thoroughfare twice.  Excellent things in it; but it drags, to my thinking.  It is, however, a great success in the country, and is now getting up with great force in Paris.  Fechter is ill, and was ordered off to Brighton yesterday.  Wills is ill too, and banished into Sussex for perfect rest.  Otherwise, thank God, I find everything well and thriving.  You and my dear Mrs. F——­ are constantly in my mind.  Procter greatly better....”

On the 25th of May he sent off the following from Gad’s Hill:—­

My Dear ——­:  As you ask me about the dogs, I begin with them.  When I came down first, I came to Gravesend, five miles off.  The two Newfoundland dogs coming to meet me, with the usual carriage and the usual driver, and beholding me coming in my usual dress out at the usual door, it struck me that their recollection of my having been absent for any unusual time was at once cancelled.  They behaved (they are both young dogs) exactly in their usual manner; coming behind the basket phaeton as we trotted along, and lifting their heads to have their ears pulled,—­a special attention which they receive from no one else.  But when I drove into the stable-yard, Linda (the St. Bernard) was greatly excited; weeping profusely, and throwing herself on her back that she might caress my foot with her great fore-paws.  M——­’s little dog too, Mrs. Bouncer, barked in the greatest agitation on being called down and asked by M——­, “Who is this?” and tore round and round me, like the dog in the Faust outlines.  You must know that all the farmers turned out on the road in their market-chaises to say, “Welcome home, sir!” that all the houses along the road were dressed with flags; and that our servants,