* * * I am glad to say that we still have very fine
weather. At Keswick we were planning how we could
see Frederick Myers, but that evening his widow was
returning to the parsonage with her three fatherless
children, and we could only look on the family vault in
the lovely churchyard, the school-room, library, etc.,
and think of his anticipations, now no doubt so happily
realized, of the "'well done,' which it will be heaven to
hear." A fine black storm hung over Skiddaw and
Saddleback, and _such_ a rainbow spanned it. The western
sky was full of the sunset, and the lake lay in lovely
repose beneath. Of the clouds we really cannot say
more than that they are often very beautiful, and sometimes
dress up the mountains in grandeur not their own;
but I have seen none that might not be Cornish clouds.
I am quite well. * * * For my sake be cheerful
and happy.
Thy very loving sister,