In February, 1872, my father and mother took a house in Devonshire Street for a month. This was chiefly planned for my sake. I was much out of health and my husband and I stayed there with them and thus my mother could take care of me. My marriage separated me very little from her. We were constantly up and down to Down, and they shared their London visits between our house and Erasmus Darwin's in Queen Anne Street.

My dearest Aunt Fanny,

You are alone again to-day and so I will write, though I have little enough to tell you. We have had a few charming days, as one often has in April, but our flowers don't behave like yours, and we have little out but forget-me-nots and wallflowers. Eliz. went down to her Tower yesterday. Her neighbours are all wanting to nibble at her land, but strange to say she declines to sell for the sake of her heirs, and a little for the sake of the village too, as Mr Sales would be sure to build some more ugly houses if he got the land. Leonard is bringing a young man from Chatham to-day with the assurance that we shall hate him. Frank is also bringing a friend, a Mr Crawley, of Monmouthshire, who is very nice. But I don't feel at ease in the company of young men and feel out of my element.