with them, which is the reason, dear mother, I have always given you so much trouble.
Dorris has set her energies doggedly to work to study up Russia, and is buried in books which treat of that subject. I never saw such a woman for finding amusement in trifles, and for picking up information on all occasions, from all sorts of people. I only hope she will not set up for an intellectual woman. She is the best traveller I ever saw.
This note will inform you of our safe arrival, and I dare say Grace will write from Paris, and tell you about the fashions. I have considered your feelings in writing this, and have refrained from slang. You should give me a great deal of credit, for I deserve it.
Grace and Dorris send love, and so does
Your affectionate son,
Thomas.
Paris, Nov. 30.
My dear sister,—Tom is really too dreadful. He was prowling all over the city last night until after twelve o'clock, with that young Mr. Lane whose father used to be in love with Aunt Emma. I wanted him to write to his mother, but he said that he wrote to her in London, and he would go off. Dorris only laughs at him, but I shall use my influence to get him started for your country next week, if our dresses are finished. I am longing to see you, and your dear little girl, and your Russian home; but if I have my gray brocade trimmed with fringe, it will take two days longer, for the fringe
