Paris, Friday, April 30, 1867.

Dear Friend: I am very sorry to know that you are surrounded by sick persons. This makes me fear that you have no thought of me, who am worse than ever in this bad weather. Will you not come and take care of me one of these days?

I went, nevertheless, to the Exposition, and was not at all carried away with it. It is true that it was pouring rain, and impossible to see the amusements, which I am told are in the garden. I saw some exquisite Chinese articles, too dear for my purse; and some Russian rugs, all sold.

You will have to take me there one of these fine mornings, and guide me in my acquisitions. You seem to be enchanted with this bazaar; perhaps your enthusiasm will kindle mine.

The dull, rainy weather is very injurious to me. I dare not go out, and I live like a bear. I am dying to go to see you some evening, but I am convinced that I should be compelled to spend the night on the first step of your stairway.

Do you know of any amusing book to read at night? While waiting for something better, I am writing for the Journal des Savants an article on the princess Sophie, sister of Peter the Great. I do not know if it would interest you. I will read it to you next time I see you.