I will look for the volume of the _Tableau de Paris_ which you think I
have; and if it is in the land of the living, it shall be coming forth
at your call. Do you remember our reading in it of the _garçon
perruquier_ who dresses in black on a Sunday, and leaves his everyday
clothes, white and heavy with powder, in the middle of the room, which
he dares not peep into after his metamorphosis? I like to read as well
as to talk with you, my dear aunt, because you mix the grave and gay
together, and put your long finger upon the very passages which my
short, stumpy one was just starting forward to point out, if it could
point.
You are very good indeed to wish for "Toys and Tasks," but I think it
would be most unreasonable to send them to you now. We are a very small
party, now that my father, Anna, and Lovell are gone; but I hope we
shall be better when you come.
_To_ MRS. ELIZABETH EDGEWORTH.