miranda hope to her mother.

october 22d

dear mother—i am off in a day or two to visit some new country; i haven’t yet decided which. i have satisfied myself with regard to france, and obtained a good knowledge of the language. i have enjoyed my visit to madame de maisonrouge deeply, and feel as if i were leaving a circle of real friends. everything has gone on beautifully up to the end, and every one has been as kind and attentive as if i were their own sister, especially mr. verdier, the french gentleman, from whom i have gained more than i ever expected (in six weeks), and with whom i have promised to correspond. so you can imagine me dashing off the most correct french letters; and, if you don’t believe it, i will keep the rough draft to show you when i go back.

the german gentleman is also more interesting, the more you know him; it seems sometimes as if i could fairly drink in his ideas. i have found out why the young lady from new york doesn’t like me! it is because i said one day at dinner that i admired to go to the louvre. well, when i first came, it seemed as if i did admire everything!

tell william platt his letter has come. i knew he would have to write, and i was bound i would make him! i haven’t decided what country i will visit yet; it seems as if there were so many to choose from. but i shall take care to pick out a good one, and to meet plenty of fresh experiences.

dearest mother, my money holds out, and it is most interesting!