and give no idea of it, though you are the very person whose imagination, aided by all that you’ve seen, would best realize such a scene from description.  It was heavenly, and we had such a perfect day!  I prefer, however, the glimpse we had of Loch Long to what we saw of Loch Lomond.  I brought away an appropriate nosegay from my trip, a white rose from Dumbarton, in memory of Mary Stuart, an oak branch from Loch Lomond, and a handful of heather, for which I fought with the bees on the rocky shore of Loch Long.

I like my Glasgow audience better than my Edinburgh one; they are not so cold.  I look for a pleasant audience in your country, for which we set out to-morrow, I believe.  My aunt desires to be remembered to you, and so does my father, and bids me add, in answer to your modest doubt, that you are a person to be always remembered with pleasure and esteem.  I am glad you did not like my Bath miniature; indeed, it was not likely that you would.

Believe me always yours affectionately,
F. A. K.

During our summer tour my mother, who had remained in London, superintended the preparation of a new house, to which we removed on our return to town.  My brother Henry’s schooling at Westminster was over, which had been the reason for our taking the house at Buckingham Gate, and, though it had proved a satisfactory residence in many respects, we were glad to exchange it for the one to which we now went, which had many associations that made it agreeable to my father, having been my uncle John’s home for many years, and connected with him in the memory of my parents.  It was the corner house of Great Russell Street and Montague Place, and, since we left it, has been included in the new court-yard of the British Museum (which was next door to it) and become the librarian’s quarters, our friend Panizzi being its first occupant afterward.  It was a good, comfortable, substantial house, the two pleasantest rooms of which, to me, were the small apartment on the ground floor, lined with books from floor to ceiling, and my own peculiar lodging in the upper regions, which, thanks to my mother’s kindness and taste, was as pretty a bower of elegant comfort as any young spinster need have desired.  There I chiefly spent my time, pursuing my favorite occupations, or in the society of my own especial friends:  my dear H——­ S——­, when she was in London; Mrs. Jameson, who often climbed thither for an hour’s pleasant discussion of her book on Shakespeare; and a lady with whom I now formed a very close intimacy, which lasted till her death, my dear E——­ F——.