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ON HIS WAY THROUGH THE WORLD 505
and bridegroom was quite a curiosity. At length a letter arrived
from these personages: and as it contains no secret, I take the
liberty to print it in extenso.
AMIENS: Friday. PARIS: Saturday.
" DEAREST FRIENDS,—(For the dearest friends you are to us,
and will continue to be as long as we live),—We perform our
promise of writing to you to say that we are well, and safe, and
happy 1 Philip says I mustn't use dashes, but I can't help it.
He says, he supposes I am dashing off a letter. You know his
joking way. Oh, what a blessing it is to see him so happy. And
if he is happy, I am. I tremble to think how happy. He sits
opposite me, smoking his cigar, looking so noble ! I like it, and I
went to our room and brought him this one. He says, ' Char, if
I were to say bring me your head, you would order a waiter to cut
it off.' Pray, did I not promise three days ago to love, honour,
and obey him, and am I going to break my promise already ? I
hope not. I pray not. All my life I hope I shall be trying to
keep that promise of mine. We like Canterbury almost as much
as dear Westminster. We had an open carriage and took a
glorious drive to Folkestone, and in the crossing Philip was ill, and
I wasn't. And he looked very droll ; and he was in a dreadful bad
humour ; and that was my first appearance as nurse. I think I
should like him to be a little ill sometimes, so that I may sit up and
take care of him. We went through the cords at the customhouse
at Boulogne ; and I remembered how, two years ago, I passed
through those very cords with my poor papa, and he stood outside,
and saw us ! We went to the ' Hotel des Bains.' We walked
about the town. We went to the Tintelleries, where we used to
live, and to your house in the Haute Ville, where I remember
everything as if it was yesterday. Don't you remember, as we
were walking one day, you said, ' Charlotte, there is the steamer
coming; there is the smoke of his funnel;' and I said, 'What
steamer ?' and you said,' The Philip, to be sure.' And he came up,
smoking his pipe ! We passed over and over the old ground where
we used to walk. We went to the pier, and gave money to the
poor little hunchback who plays the guitar, and he said, ' Merci,
madame.' How droll it sounded ! And that good kind Marie at
the ' Hotel des Bains' remembered us, and called us ' mes enfans.'
And if you were not the most good-natured woman in the world,
I think I should be ashamed to write such nonsense.
" Think of Mrs Brandon having knitted me a purse, which she
gave me as we went away from dear dear Queen Square; and
when I opened it, there were five sovereigns in it ! When we found