Bowne don’t like any of his own, and wishes to hire one for the present until he can _build_, which he intends doing next season; which I am very glad of, as I never liked living in a hired house and changing about so often. Uncle and Aunt King want we should get near them; they have hired a ready furnished house about 2 miles out of the city for the summer, and intend hiring a house in town in the winter. I have been very busy with my mantua-maker, as I am having a dress made to wear to Mrs. Delafield’s to dine on Sunday; they have a most superb country seat on Long Island, opposite Hell-Gate;—he is Uncle Rufus’ most intimate friend and a very intimate one of Mr. Bowne’s. We shall probably meet them there; I have not seen them to ask. My picture is done, but I am disappointed in it. Malbone says he has not done me justice, so says Mr. Bowne; but I think, tho’ the features are striking, he has not caught the expression, particularly of the eyes, which are excessively _pensive_: would do for Sterne’s Maria. The mouth laughs a little and they all say is good,—all the lower part of the face; but the eyes not the thing. He wants me to sit again, so does Mr. Bowne. Malbone thinks he could do much better in another position. I get so tired, I am quite reluctant about sitting again. However, we intend showing it to some of our friends before we determine. How do all our friends at Saco and Topsham do? I often think of them, and Mr. Bowne and myself are talking of coming to see you next summer very seriously. How comes on the new house? We are to come as soon as ever that is finished. If you choose to send so far, I will purchase any kind of furniture you wish, perhaps cheaper and better than you can get elsewhere. Adieu. Remember me to all the children. Dear little Mary,—I can’t help crying sometimes, with all my pleasures and amusements; ’tis impossible to be at once reconciled to quitting all one’s friends. I thought a great deal of the children. I never thought I loved them so much; I never pass a toy-shop or confectionery without wishing them here. How does Horatio succeed in business, as well as he expected? How comes on Father’s turnpike and diking? Tell him I yesterday met a woman full broke out with the small-pox; I was within a yard of her before I perceived it; the first sensation was terror, and I ran several paces before I recollected myself. As soon as I arrived in town Doctor Moore examined my arm, enquired the particulars, and refused to inoculate me again; that he would venture to insure me from the small-pox; that he had inoculated hundreds and never had one take the small-pox after the kine-pox. Adieu. Your affectionate daughter ELIZA S. BOWNE. P. S. All the family desire to be remembered particularly. Mr. B. is out to dine.