The Palais Royale is a heavenly place, so full of bijouterie and lovely things that I'm nearly distracted because I can't buy them.
Fred wanted to get me some, but of course I didn't allow it.
Then the Bois and Champs Elysees are tres magnifique.
I've seen the imperial family several times, the emperor an ugly, hard-looking man, the empress pale and pretty, but dressed in bad taste, I thought—purple dress, green hat, and yellow gloves.
Little Nap is a handsome boy, who sits chatting to his tutor, and kisses his hand to the people as he passes in his four-horse barouche, with postilions in red satin jackets and a mounted guard before and behind.
We often walk in the Tuileries Gardens, for they are lovely, though the antique Luxembourg Gardens suit me better.
Pere la Chaise is very curious, for many of the tombs are like small rooms, and looking in, one sees a table, with images or pictures of the dead, and chairs for the mourners to sit in when they come to lament.
That is so Frenchy.
Our rooms are on the Rue de Rivoli, and sitting on the balcony, we look up and down the long, brilliant street.
It is so pleasant that we spend our evenings talking there when too tired with our day's work to go out.
Fred is very entertaining, and is altogether the most agreeable young man I ever knew—except Laurie, whose manners are more charming.
I wish Fred was dark, for I don't fancy light men, however, the Vaughns are very rich and come of an excellent family, so I won't find fault with their yellow hair, as my own is yellower.
Next week we are off to Germany and Switzerland, and as we shall travel fast, I shall only be able to give you hasty letters.
I keep my diary, and try to 'remember correctly and describe clearly all that I see and admire', as Father advised.
It is good practice for me, and with my sketchbook will give you a better idea of my tour than these scribbles.
Adieu, I embrace you tenderly. "Votre Amie."
HEIDELBERG
My dear Mamma,
Having a quiet hour before we leave for Berne, I'll try to tell you what has happened, for some of it is very important, as you will see.
The sail up the Rhine was perfect, and I just sat and enjoyed it with all my might.
Get Father's old guidebooks and read about it. I haven't words beautiful enough to describe it.
At Coblentz we had a lovely time, for some students from Bonn, with whom Fred got acquainted on the boat, gave us a serenade.
It was a moonlight night, and about one o'clock Flo and I were waked by the most delicious music under our windows.
We flew up, and hid behind the curtains, but sly peeps showed us Fred and the students singing away down below.
It was the most romantic thing I ever saw—the river, the bridge of boats, the great fortress opposite, moonlight everywhere, and music fit to melt a heart of stone.
When they were done we threw down some flowers, and saw them scramble for them, kiss their hands to the invisible ladies, and go laughing away, to smoke and drink beer, I suppose.
Next morning Fred showed me one of the crumpled flowers in his vest pocket, and looked very sentimental.
I laughed at him, and said I didn't throw it, but Flo, which seemed to disgust him, for he tossed it out of the window, and turned sensible again.
I'm afraid I'm going to have trouble with that boy, it begins to look like it.
The baths at Nassau were very gay, so was Baden-Baden, where Fred lost some money, and I scolded him.
He needs someone to look after him when Frank is not with him.
Kate said once she hoped he'd marry soon, and I quite agree with her that it would be well for him.
Frankfurt was delightful. I saw Goethe's house, Schiller's statue, and Dannecker's famous 'Ariadne.'
It was very lovely, but I should have enjoyed it more if I had known the story better.
I didn't like to ask, as everyone knew it or pretended they did. I wish Jo would tell me all about it.
I ought to have read more, for I find I don't know anything, and it mortifies me.
Now comes the serious part, for it happened here, and Fred has just gone.
He has been so kind and jolly that we all got quite fond of him. I never thought of anything but a traveling friendship till the serenade night.
Since then I've begun to feel that the moonlight walks, balcony talks, and daily adventures were something more to him than fun.
I haven't flirted, Mother, truly, but remembered what you said to me, and have done my very best.
I can't help it if people like me. I don't try to make them, and it worries me if I don't care for them, though Jo says I haven't got any heart.
Now I know Mother will shake her head, and the girls say,
"Oh, the mercenary little wretch!", but I've made up my mind, and if Fred asks me, I shall accept him, though I'm not madly in love.
I like him, and we get on comfortably together.
He is handsome, young, clever enough, and very rich—ever so much richer than the Laurences.
I don't think his family would object, and I should be very happy, for they are all kind, well-bred, generous people, and they like me.
Fred, as the eldest twin, will have the estate, I suppose, and such a splendid one it is!
A city house in a fashionable street, not so showy as our big houses, but twice as comfortable and full of solid luxury, such as English people believe in.
I like it, for it's genuine.
I've seen the plate, the family jewels, the old servants, and pictures of the country place, with its park, great house, lovely grounds, and fine horses.