felt as if I could bear it no longer, and I went to Madame Heger, and gave her notice.  If it had depended on her, I should certainly have soon been at liberty; but M. Heger, having heard of what was in agitation, sent for me the day after, and pronounced with vehemence his decision, that I should not leave.  I could not, at that time, have persevered in my intention without exciting him to anger; so I promised to stay a little while longer.  How long that will be, I do not know.  I should not like to return to England to do nothing.  I am too old for that now; but if I could hear of a favourable opportunity for commencing a school, I think I should embrace it.  We have as yet no fires here, and I suffer much from cold; otherwise, I am well in health.  Mr. —–­ will take this letter to England.  He is a pretty-looking and pretty behaved young man, apparently constructed without a backbone; by which I don’t allude to his corporal spine, which is all right enough, but to his character.

“I get on here after a fashion; but now that Mary D. has left Brussels, I have nobody to speak to, for I count the Belgians as nothing.  Sometimes I ask myself how long shall I stay here; but as yet I have only asked the question; I have not answered it.  However, when I have acquired as much German as I think fit, I think I shall pack up bag and baggage and depart.  Twinges of home-sickness cut me to the heart, every now and then.  To-day the weather is glaring, and I am stupified with a bad cold and headache.  I have nothing to tell you.  One day is like another in this place.  I know you, living in the country, can hardly believe it is possible life can be monotonous in the centre of a brilliant capital like Brussels; but so it is.  I feel it most on holidays, when all the girls and teachers go out to visit, and it sometimes happens that I am left, during several hours, quite alone, with four great desolate schoolrooms at my disposition.  I try to read, I try to write; but in vain.  I then wander about from room to room, but the silence and loneliness of all the house weighs down one’s spirits like lead.  You will hardly believe that Madame Heger (good and kind as I have described her) never comes near me on these occasions.  I own, I was astonished the first time I was left alone thus; when everybody else was enjoying the pleasures of a fete day with their friends, and she knew I was quite by myself, and never took the least notice of me.  Yet, I understand, she praises me very much to everybody, and says what excellent lessons I give.  She is not colder to me than she is to the other teachers; but they are less dependent on her than I am.  They have relations and acquaintances in Bruxelles.  You remember the letter she wrote me, when I was in England?  How kind and affectionate that was? is it not odd?  In the meantime, the complaints I make at present are a sort of relief which I permit myself.  In all other respects I am well satisfied with my