Haworth_ Hotel Hyacinthe, St.Honore: Wednesday and Thursday, July 8, 1858 [postmark].
My dearest Fanny,--The scene changes.

No more cypresses, no more fireflies, no more dreaming repose on burning hot evenings.

Push out the churches, push in the boulevards.

Here I am, sitting alone at this moment, in an hotel near the Tuileries, where we have taken an apartment for a week, a pretty salon, with the complement of velvet sofas, and arm-chairs, and looking-glasses, and bedrooms to correspond, with clocks at distances of three yards, as if the time was in desperate danger of forgetting itself--which it is, of course.

Paris looks more splendid than ever, and we were not too much out of breath with fatigue, on our arrival last night, to admit of various cries of admiration from all of us.