I sit down to catch a moment to tell you all I have to before another interruption. I have so much to say, where shall I begin—my head is most turned, and yet I am very happy; I am enraptured with New York. You cannot imagine anything half so beautiful as _Broadway_, and I am sure you would say I was more romantic than ever if I should attempt to describe the Battery,—the elegant water prospect,—you can have no idea how refreshing in a warm evening. The gardens we have not yet visited; indeed we have so many delightful things ’twill take me forever; and my husband declares he takes as much pleasure in showing them to me as I do in seeing them; you would believe it if you saw him. Did I tell you anything of Brother John? handsome young man, great literary taste; he is one of the family; nothing of the appearance of a Quaker. Mrs. King, another sister, they all say looks like me. Mrs. Murray, who is very sick now, has a daughter, a charming, lively girl, about 19, and the little witch introduced me in a laughing way last night to some of her friends as _Aunt Eliza_. I protest against that; her brother Robert 17 years old too; I positively must declare off from being Aunt to them. Caroline and I went a-shopping yesterday, and ’tis a fact that the little white satin quaker bonnets, cap-crowns, are the most fashionable that are worn—lined with pink or blue or white; but I’ll not have one, for if any of my old acquaintance should meet me in the street they would laugh, I would if I were them. I mean to send sister Boyd a quaker cap, the first tasty one I see; Caroline’s are too plain, but she has promised to get me a more fashionable pattern. ’Tis the fashion. I see nothing new or pretty,—large sheer muslin shawls put on as Sally Weeks wears hers are much worn, they show the form thro’ and look pretty; silk nabobs, plaided, colored and white, are much worn, very short waists, hair very plain. Maria Denning has been to see me, I was very happy,—several spring acquaintance. Expect Eliza Watts and Jane every moment, they did not know where I was to be found. Last night we were at the play—“The way to get married.” Mr. Hodgkinson[45] in _Tangent_ is inimitable. Mrs. Johnson a sweet, interesting actress in Julia, and Jefferson,[46] a great comic player, were all that were particularly pleasing; house was very thin so late in the season. Mr. and Mrs. Codman[47] came to see me. I should have known her in a moment from her resemblance to Ellen and the family,—appeared very happy to see me,—Mr. Codman was happy, Mrs. Codman would now have somebody to call her friend, etc., etc. Maria Denning told me Uncle Rufus [King] was expected every day; we have such contradictory accounts, we hardly know what to believe. As to housekeeping, we don’t begin to talk anything of it yet. Mr. Bowne says not till October, however you shall hear all our plans.