On March 6th, 1843, she writes thus:—­

“I am settled by this time, of course.  I am not too much overloaded with occupation; and besides teaching English, I have time to improve myself in German.  I ought to consider myself well off, and to be thankful for my good fortunes.  I hope I am thankful; and if I could always keep up my spirits and never feel lonely, or long for companionship, or friendship, or whatever they call it, I should do very well.  As I told you before, M. and Madame Heger are the only two persons in the house for whom I really experience regard and esteem, and of course, I cannot be always with them, nor even very often.  They told me, when I first returned, that I was to consider their sitting- room my sitting-room also, and to go there whenever I was not engaged in the schoolroom.  This, however, I cannot do.  In the daytime it is a public room, where music-masters and mistresses are constantly passing in and out; and in the evening, I will not, and ought not to intrude on M. and Madame Heger and their children.  Thus I am a good deal by myself, out of school-hours; but that does not signify.  I now regularly give English lessons to M. Heger and his brother-in-law.  They get on with wonderful rapidity; especially the first.  He already begins to speak English very decently.  If you could see and hear the efforts I make to teach them to pronounce like Englishmen, and their unavailing attempts to imitate, you would laugh to all eternity.

“The Carnival is just over, and we have entered upon the gloom and abstinence of Lent.  The first day of Lent we had coffee without milk for breakfast; vinegar and vegetables, with a very little salt fish, for dinner; and bread for supper.  The Carnival was nothing but masking and mummery.  M. Heger took me and one of the pupils into the town to see the masks.  It was animating to see the immense crowds, and the general gaiety, but the masks were nothing.  I have been twice to the D.’s” (those cousins of “Mary’s” of whom I have before made mention).  “When she leaves Bruxelles, I shall have nowhere to go to.  I have had two letters from Mary.  She does not tell me she has been ill, and she does not complain; but her letters are not the letters of a person in the enjoyment of great happiness.  She has nobody to be as good to her as M. Heger is to me; to lend her books; to converse with her sometimes, &c.

   “Good-bye.  When I say so, it seems to me that you will hardly hear
   me; all the waves of the Channel heaving and roaring between must
   deaden the sound.”