Dear ——­,

Notwithstanding all the poetry of our situation, we found some of the ills of life in it.  A few light cases of fever had occurred among us, which gave reason to distrust the lake-shore at this late season, and preparations were accordingly made to depart.  Watching an opportunity, the skiff of honest Jean was loaded with us and our effects to the water’s edge, and we embarked in the Leman, as she lay-to, in one of her daily trips, bidding a final adieu to Vevey, after a residence of about five weeks.

The passage down the lake was pleasant, and our eyes rested on the different objects with melancholy interest, for we knew not that they would ever be again looked upon by any among us.  It is an exquisite lake, and it grows on us in beauty each time that we look at it, the surest sign of perfection.  We reached Geneva early, and took lodgings at l’Ecu, in season for the ladies to make some purchases.  The jewellery of this town is usually too tempting to be resisted by female self-denial, and when we met at dinner, we had a course of ear-rings, chains and bracelets served up, by a succession of shopmen, who understand, as it were by instinct, the caprices of the daughters of Eve.  One of the party had taken a fancy to a pair of unfinished bracelets, and had expressed her regrets that she could not carry them with her.  “Madame goes to Paris?” “Yes.”  “If she will leave her address, they shall be sent to her in a month.”  As we were strangers in France, and the regulation which prevented travellers from buying articles of this sort for their personal use, however necessary, has always appeared to me inhospitable, I told the man that if delivered in Paris, they should be received, and paid for.  The bargain was made, and the jewels have already reached us.  Of course I have asked no questions, and am ignorant whether they came by a balloon, in the luggage of an ambassador, or by the means of a dog.

The next day it rained tremendously; but having ordered horses, we left Geneva in the afternoon, taking the road to Ferney.  Not an individual of the whole party had any desire to visit the chateau, however, and we drove through the place on a gallop.  We took French post-horses at the foot of the Jura, where we found the first post-house, and began to climb the mountains.  Our party made a droll appearance just at that moment.  The rain was falling in torrents, and the carriage was dragging slowly through the mud up the long winding ascent.  Of course the windows were shut, and we were a sort of full-dress party within, looking ridiculously fine, and, from time to time, laughing at our silly appearance.  Everybody was in travelling dresses, jewellery excepted.  The late purchases, however, were all on our persons, for we had been told they would certainly be seized at the custom-houses, if left in their boxes in the trunks.  The douaniers could tell a recent purchase by instinct.  Accordingly, all our fingers