yet; and though I know none can bring in later intelligence than we have had overland, there are many details to be filled up. God bless you, dear.
My dearest Sister,—I will try to run off a letter early in the morning, for it is so hot, and I am so sleepy after luncheon that I always fall asleep when I am in a transport of sentiment over my letters home. The weather has been better though the last fortnight; occasional days of pouring rains when we can have the windows open, and there have been two or three evenings this last week which were really pleasant—something like the hottest summer evenings of that exquisite country, England—with a little air stirring, and no necessity for gasping with one’s tongue hanging out, like Chance. That little black angel has the audacity to dote on India, and never enjoyed better spirits, or a more imperious temper. He
