A few more days of this modern Love Chase will unfit me for professional work. Tried to draw the roof of the choir, a good specimen of early Perp., and failed. Studied the itinerary again to see if it had any unsuspected suggestions in cipher. No go! York and Durham were double-starred by the Aunt Celia's curate as places for long stops. Perhaps we shall meet again there. Lincoln, _June 22_, The Black Boy Inn. I am stopping at a beastly little hole, which has the one merit of being opposite Miss Schuyler's lodgings, for I have found her at last. My sketch-book has deteriorated in artistic value during the last two weeks. Many of its pages, while interesting to me as reminiscences, will hardly do for family or studio exhibition. If I should label them, the result would be something like this: 1. Sketch of a footstool and desk where I first saw Miss Schuyler kneeling. 2. Sketch of a carved oak chair, Miss Schuyler sitting in it. 3. 'Angel choir.' Heads of Miss Schuyler introduced into the carving. 4. Altar screen. A row of full-length Miss Schuylers holding lilies. 5. Tomb of a bishop, where I tied Miss Schuyler's shoe. 6. Tomb of another bishop, where I had to tie it again because I did it so badly the first time. 7. Sketch of the shoe, the shoe-lace worn out with much tying. 8. Sketch of the blessed verger who called her 'Madam' when we were walking together. 9. Sketch of her blush when he did it; the prettiest thing in the world. 10. Sketch of J. Q. Copley contemplating the ruins of his heart. 'How are the mighty fallen!' * * * * * _She_ Lincoln, _June 23_, At Miss Smallpage's, Castle Garden. This is one of the charmingest towns we have visited, and I am so glad Aunt Celia has a letter to the Canon in residence, because it may keep her contented.