Meantime let us have a little gossip such as the gods allow of.
Dear Mr.Kenyon has not yet gone to Scotland, though his intentions still stand north.

He passed an evening with us some evenings ago, and was brilliant and charming (the two things together), and good and affectionate at the same time.

Mr.Landor was staying with him (perhaps I told you that), and went away into Worcestershire, assuring me, when he took leave of me, that he would never enter London again.

A week passes, and lo! Mr.Kenyon expects him again.

Resolutions are not always irrevocable, you observe.
I must tell you what Landor said about Louis Napoleon.