Dearest People,Here I really sit at a front window of the Bath Hotel,Piccadilly. It's not a fashionable place, but Uncle stoppedhere years ago, and won't go anywhere else. However, we don'tmean to stay long, so it's no great matter. Oh, I can't beginto tell you how I enjoy it all! I never can, so I'll only giveyou bits out of my notebook, for I've done nothing but sketchand scribble since I started.

I sent a line from Halifax, when I felt pretty miserable,but after that I got on delightfully, seldom ill, on deck allday, with plenty of pleasant people to amuse me. Everyone wasvery kind to me, especially the officers. Don't laugh, Jo,gentlemen really are very necessary aboard ship, to hold on to,or to wait upon one, and as they have nothing to do, it's a mercyto make them useful, otherwise they would smoke themselves to death,I'm afraid.

Aunt and Flo were poorly all the way, and liked to be letalone, so when I had done what I could for them, I went andenjoyed myself. Such walks on deck, such sunsets, such splendidair and waves! It was almost as exciting as riding a fast horse,when we went rushing on so grandly. I wish Beth could have come,it would have done her so much good. As for Jo, she would havegone up and sat on the maintop jib, or whatever the high thingis called, made friends with the engineers, and tooted on thecaptain's speaking trumpet, she'd have been in such a state ofrapture.

It was all heavenly, but I was glad to see the Irish coast,and found it very lovely, so green and sunny, with brown cabinshere and there, ruins on some of the hills, and gentlemen'scountryseats in the valleys, with deer feeding in the parks.It was early in the morning, but I didn't regret getting up tosee it, for the bay was full of little boats, the shore so picturesque,and a rosy sky overhead. I never shall forget it.

At Queenstown one of my new acquaintances left us, Mr.Lennox, and when I said something about the Lakes of Killarney,he sighed, and sung, with a look at me . . .

Wasn't that nonsensical?

I never shall get to London if I don't hurry. The trip waslike riding through a long picture gallery, full of lovely landscapes.The farmhouses were my delight, with thatched roofs,ivy up to the eaves, latticed windows, and stout women with rosychildren at the doors. The very cattle looked more tranquilthan ours, as they stood knee-deep in clover, and the hens hada contented cluck, as if they never got nervous like Yankeebiddies. Such perfect color I never saw, the grass so green, skyso blue, grain so yellow, woods so dark, I was in a rapture allthe way. So was Flo, and we kept bouncing from one side to theother, trying to see everything while we were whisking along atthe rate of sixty miles an hour. Aunt was tired and went to sleep,but Uncle read his guidebook, and wouldn't be astonished at anything.This is the way we went on. Amy, flying up - "Oh, thatmust be Kenilworth, that gray place among the trees!" Flo, dartingto my window - "How sweet! We must go there sometime, won't wePapa?" Uncle, calmly admiring his boots - "No, my dear, not unlessyou want beer, that's a brewery."

Of course it rained when we got to London, and there wasnothing to be seen but fog and umbrellas. We rested, unpacked,and shopped a little between the showers. Aunt Mary got me somenew things, for I came off in such a hurry I wasn't half ready.A white hat and blue feather, a muslin dress to match, and theloveliest mantle you ever saw. Shopping in Regent Street isperfectly splendid. Things seem so cheap, nice ribbons onlysixpence a yard. I laid in a stock, but shall get my glovesin Paris. Doesn't that sound sort of elegant and rich?

Flo and I, for the fun of it, ordered a hansom cab, whileAunt and Uncle were out, and went for a drive, though we learnedafterward that it wasn't the thing for young ladies to ride inthem alone. It was so droll! For when we were shut in by thewooden apron, the man drove so fast that Flo was frightened, andtold me to stop him, but he was up outside behind somewhere,and I couldn't get at him. He didn't hear me call, nor see meflap my parasol in front, and there we were, quite helpless,rattling away, and whirling around corners at a breakneck pace.At last, in my despair, I saw a little door in the roof, and onpoking it open, a red eye appeared, and a beery voice said . . .

"Now, then, mum?"

I gave my order as soberly as I could, and slamming downthe door, with an "Aye, aye, mum," the man made his horse walk,as if going to a funeral. I poked again and said, "A littlefaster," then off he went, helter-skelter as before, and weresigned ourselves to our fate.

Today was fair, and we went to Hyde Park, close by, for weare more aristocratic than we look. The Duke of Devonshire livesnear. I often see his footmen lounging at the back gate, andthe Duke of Wellington's house is not far off. Such sights as Isaw, my dear! It was as good as Punch, for there were fat dowagersrolling about in their red and yellow coaches, with gorgeousJeameses in silk stockings and velvet coats, up behind, and powderedcoachmen in front. Smart maids, with the rosiest childrenI ever saw, handsome girls, looking half asleep, dandies in queerEnglish hats and lavender kids lounging about, and tall soldiers,in short red jackets and muffin caps stuck on one side, lookingso funny I longed to sketch them.

Rotten Row means 'Route de Roi', or the king's way, butnow it's more like a riding school than anything else. Thehorses are splendid, and the men, especially the grooms, ridewell, but the women are stiff, and bounce, which isn't accordingto our rules. I longed to show them a tearing Americangallop, for they trotted solemnly up and down, in their scanthabits and high hats, looking like the women in a toy Noah'sArk. Everyone rides - old men, stout ladies, little children - and the young folks do a deal of flirting here, I saw a pairexchange rose buds, for it's the thing to wear one in thebutton-hole, and I thought it rather a nice little idea.

In the P.M. to Westminster Abbey, but don't expect me to describeit, that's impossible, so I'll only say it was sublime! This eveningwe are going to see Fechter, which will be an appropriate end to thehappiest day of my life.

It's very late, but I can't let my letter go in the morningwithout telling you what happened last evening. Who doyou think came in, as we were at tea? Laurie's English friends,Fred and Frank Vaughn! I was so surprised, for I shouldn't haveknown them but for the cards. Both are tall fellows with whiskers,Fred handsome in the English style, and Frank much better,for he only limps slightly, and uses no crutches. They had heardfrom Laurie where we were to be, and came to ask us to theirhouse, but Uncle won't go, so we shall return the call, and seethem as we can. They went to the theater with us, and we didhave such a good time, for Frank devoted himself to Flo, andFred and I talked over past, present, and future fun as if wehad known each other all our days. Tell Beth Frank asked for her,and was sorry to hear of her ill health. Fred laughed when Ispoke of Jo, and sent his 'respectful compliments to the big hat'.Neither of them had forgotten Camp Laurence, or the fun we hadthere. What ages ago it seems, doesn't it?

Aunt is tapping on the wall for the third time, so I muststop. I really feel like a dissipated London fine lady, writinghere so late, with my room full of pretty things, and my heada jumble of parks, theaters, new gowns, and gallant creatureswho say "Ah!" and twirl their blond mustaches with the trueEnglish lordliness. I long to see you all, and in spite of mynonsense am, as ever, your loving . . .

AMY

PARIS

Dear girls,

In my last I told you about our London visit, how kind theVaughns were, and what pleasant parties they made for us. I enjoyedthe trips to Hampton Court and the Kensington Museum more thananything else, for at Hampton I saw Raphael's cartoons, andat the Museum, rooms full of pictures by Turner, Lawrence, Reynolds,Hogarth, and the other great creatures. The day in RichmondPark was charming, for we had a regular English picnic, andI had more splendid oaks and groups of deer than I could copy,also heard a nightingale, and saw larks go up. We 'did' Londonto our heart's content, thanks to Fred and Frank, and were sorryto go away, for though English people are slow to take you in,when they once make up their minds to do it they cannot be outdonein hospitality, I think. The Vaughns hope to meet us inRome next winter, and I shall be dreadfully disappointed if theydon't, for Grace and I are great friends, and the boys verynice fellows, especially Fred.

We often walk in the Tuileries Gardens, for they arelovely, though the antique Luxembourg Gardens suit me better.Pere la Chaise is very curious, for many of the tombs arelike small rooms, and looking in, one sees a table, withimages or pictures of the dead, and chairs for the mournersto sit in when they come to lament. That is so Frenchy.

Our rooms are on the Rue de Rivoli, and sitting on thebalcony, we look up and down the long, brilliant street. Itis so pleasant that we spend our evenings talking there whentoo 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 Fredwas dark, for I don't fancy light men, however, the Vaughnsare very rich and come of an excellent family, so I won'tfind fault with their yellow hair, as my own is yellower.

Next week we are off to Germany and Switzerland, and aswe shall travel fast, I shall only be able to give you hastyletters. I keep my diary, and try to 'remember correctly anddescribe clearly all that I see and admire', as Father advised.It is good practice for me, and with my sketchbook will giveyou a better idea of my tour than these scribbles.

HEIDELBERG

My dear Mamma,

Having a quiet hour before we leave for Berne, I'll try totell 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 enjoyedit with all my might. Get Father's old guidebooks andread 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 werewaked by the most delicious music under our windows. We flew up,and hid behind the curtains, but sly peeps showed us Fred andthe students singing away down below. It was the most romanticthing I ever saw - the river, the bridge of boats, the great fortressopposite, moonlight everywhere, and music fit to melt a heart of stone.

When they were done we threw down some flowers, and sawthem scramble for them, kiss their hands to the invisible ladies,and go laughing away, to smoke and drink beer, I suppose. Nextmorning Fred showed me one of the crumpled flowers in his vestpocket, and looked very sentimental. I laughed at him, and saidI didn't throw it, but Flo, which seemed to disgust him, for hetossed it out of the window, and turned sensible again. I'mafraid I'm going to have trouble with that boy, it begins tolook like it.

The baths at Nassau were very gay, so was Baden-Baden,where Fred lost some money, and I scolded him. He needs someoneto look after him when Frank is not with him. Kate saidonce she hoped he'd marry soon, and I quite agree with herthat it would be well for him. Frankfurt was delightful. Isaw Goethe's house, Schiller's statue, and Dannecker's famous'Ariadne.' It was very lovely, but I should have enjoyed itmore if I had known the story better. I didn't like to ask, aseveryone knew it or pretended they did. I wish Jo would tellme all about it. I ought to have read more, for I find I don'tknow anything, and it mortifies me.

Well, last evening we went up to the castle about sunset, atleast all of us but Fred, who was to meet us there after going tothe Post Restante for letters. We had a charming time pokingabout the ruins, the vaults where the monster tun is, and thebeautiful gardens made by the elector long ago for his Englishwife. I liked the great terrace best, for the view was divine,so while the rest went to see the rooms inside, I sat there tryingto sketch the gray stone lion's head on the wall, with scarletwoodbine sprays hanging round it. I felt as if I'd got into aromance, sitting there, watching the Neckar rolling through thevalley, listening to the music of the Austrian band below, andwaiting for my lover, like a real storybook girl. I had a feelingthat something was going to happen and I was ready for it. Ididn't feel blushy or quakey, but quite cool and only a littleexcited.

By-and-by I heard Fred's voice, and then he came hurryingthrough the great arch to find me. He looked so troubled that Iforgot all about myself, and asked what the matter was. He saidhe'd just got a letter begging him to come home, for Frank wasvery ill. So he was going at once on the night train and onlyhad time to say good-by. I was very sorry for him, and disappointedfor myself, but only for a minute because he said, as he shook hands,and said it in a way that I could not mistake, "I shall soon come back, you won't forget me, Amy?"

I didn't promise, but I looked at him, and he seemed satisfied,and there was no time for anything but messages and good-byes,for he was off in an hour, and we all miss him very much.I know he wanted to speak, but I think, from something he oncehinted, that he had promised his father not to do anything ofthe sort yet a while, for he is a rash boy, and the old gentlemandreads a foreign daughter-in-law. We shall soon meet inRome, and then, if I don't change my mind, I'll say "Yes, thankyou," when he says "Will you, please?"

Ever your AMY