We are all quite well, George remarkably so. Everybody says he looks much better than when he landed. I do not see that, but he certainly is very well and happy.
We are all full of fancy-ball preparations, which is an excellent topic. I dare say our dresses will be lovely, but hitherto I have not been able to hear of any possible material to make mine of.
Love to all.
The ‘overland despatch,’ which is very apt to do something untact, is going to set off just as we are in the very act of settling ourselves at Simla, and how letters are to be written and furniture pushed about till it falls into its own niche is more than I can say. But, now that I have sent off the last volume of my journal, and do not mean to begin another till we set off marching again, I mean to write to you at all odd opportunities, though my spirit is broken—right in two—by the conduct of that great
