‘My dear Mr. Rogers,—I cannot help writing a line to ask how your cold is, and to report progress. Thanks to you, I was most comfortably lodged and entertained at Mr. Wright’s. . . . He enquired much about you, and regretted your not coming there this year.
‘I heard the beautiful music and saw the noble Cathedral, with its very fine crypt. ‘I saw also the Augustine College. On Monday, I crossed, at Folkstone, a very rough but glorious sea, and an excellent passage. Here I am at the Hôtel de Londres—a very good hotel. I have some friends here, the Osbornes (Mrs. O. is sister-in-law to the Duchess of Somerset). I hope to leave this to-morrow. May I beg you for one line only, to say your cold is better, or, as I trust, quite gone, and address it to me here; it will be forwarded to me. I remembered your advice about the blanket, a most useful measure. I also paid yesterday my devoirs to the house where the author of “Gil Blas” died.
‘I was much struck with the letter you showed me last
Saturday from Mr. H. Drummond. I allude
to it only to express my entire assent to his declarations as to
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‘I did not mean to be so long on this, but you will forgive me, and ascribe it to the sincere affection and gratitude I must ever cherish for you.
‘Believe me, my dear Mr. Rogers, yours ever,
