“Mr. Keith has arrived, my dear Charlotte, and the morning of the very day of his arrival (Friday) he sent me your letters; and this evening he sent the case, which I think charming, especially the top. I assure you that it gave me intense pleasure; but what sacrifice have you made me--where did you get all that hair? It can’t be of recent cutting; there are so few white hairs that I should scarcely recognize them for those dear tresses. In London you showed me only a tiny bit. Where did you get these? I thank you most gratefully for such a sacrifice; I confess that it would have been beyond me, and so I feel all the more grateful. I’m so afraid of breaking either of the glasses; the case is so high. I must have seen her like that, but I do not remember it; the earliest memory I have of her is seeing her twenty-one years ago at some races; and I remember her dress better than her charming face. The copy is very well done, and I have had the pleasure of examining it twice. It was given to me by artificial light, and next day it seemed quite different, the daylight improved it ever so much; I thank you a thousand times. It is the most delightful gift I could have had. The cameo is very pretty. I imagine it would fain be your portrait, and is really the portrait of Thor’s daughter; she is rather elongated, poor little lady, but apparently the qualities of her heart atone for the defects of her face. My dear, you’re mad with your ‘fashions’! Let me tell you that, except when I go to Court, I’m just as I was in London, almost always in black-and-white linen gown. All the women, you know, dress themselves up, if you please, nearly every day. I never cared about that kind of thing--indeed, I detested it; and having to dress myself up four times a week makes me incredibly lazy on the days that, with joy untold, I can rest from all that bother. My friends are always laughing at me for my dowdiness--so you see what I’ve come to. As to having to wear warm clothing in Russia, as you think one has, you are quite mistaken. Once inside the street door, the houses are so warm that a very thin dress is by far the best to wear. So muslin is better than warm materials. One has to wear fur-cloaks, and well padded ones too, when one is going out, even from one house to another. That is necessary here; but indoors one would be suffocated in padded clothes. I used to think the same as you. I had a dress made in London, and I’ve only worn it once or twice, and then I thought I would die of heat; so you see it will hang in my wardrobe for a long time.