Metz, September 12, 1846.

It is extremely fortunate that you decided to write to me before my departure, else I should have gone to Germany without any news of you. Your letter came just as I was about to start. Upon the promises you give me, and whose accomplishment I expect with over-confidence, perhaps, I shall return early in October, probably the first. I hope a few leaves will still remain. We shall see if you are as good as your word.

To-morrow I go to TrÈves, and from there either to Mayence or to Cologne, according as the weather is inviting or not. In any case it would be well for you to write to me at once at Aix-la-Chapelle, and then immediately afterwards at Brussels. I need not tell you to write something pleasant which will tempt me to return. When I have started, once on the way, I have the greatest difficulty in stopping, and it will require promises of the most alluring kind to keep me from pushing on as far as Laponia.

I believe I mentioned making two portraits of you. I have now at least three, and with each unsuccessful attempt I begin again, without destroying the former effort. Well, you shall see whether my memory has played me false or true. You ask me which gown? To tell the truth, I gave little consideration to that, but the resemblance lies elsewhere than in the gown. I despair of being able ever to catch the indefinable expression on your face.

I have just arrived here after a sleepless night in a stage-coach, and my head is excessively giddy. My candles seem to be dancing around on the table. A yachting trip is arranged for to-morrow. We shall be stranded frequently, for the Moselle is extremely shallow, but this is not cause sufficient to prevent me from sleeping.

I shall write to you probably from some German inn, and most certainly from Lille, where I shall stop. I may be able by that time to announce the day of my arrival. I learn with great satisfaction that you are tired of ——; I predicted that you would be so. Any one who lives in Paris can not possibly be contented in the country. One says and does such a lot of extravagances that would not be noticed in Paris, but which at —— are as big as a house. Knowing you as I do, I fancy that you have already had this experience.

I shall forgive everything if you will tell me of your return the first or second of October.