With the Doctor's efficient aid, we are now reduced to order; and can find a dress or apron without strewing the floor with the contents of three or four trunks. The same hands have driven up an innumerable number of nails for clothes, of which Ruth and I have made extempore closets by sewing rings to a sheet, and hanging them in front, so that we have only to put aside our curtain, and we are in the inclosure, while coats, dresses, and other clothes are free from dust. Master Franky has a trunk devoted to him for his toys, and so far thinks it much more convenient than his drawers and lockers at home. Another trunk has been assigned to books, slates and apparatus. School commenced in earnest to-day. The Doctor has sent for a piano, that the children may not lose their practice. He also intends Pauline to take lessons on the harp. I am not, as you know, a proficient upon that instrument. I have added to my family a little French girl, daughter of one of the peasants, who was very willing to leave her parents for a time, to come to us. Ruth is a very good sempstress; and I find enough of that employment for her, and in following "mass'r Franky" in his walks of discovery about the town. My husband chose this location from the fact of its being so healthy; and because there is a Protestant church here. Nice is a great resort for invalids. There are quite a number of families here at present. One lady, with her husband, child and servant occupy rooms above ours. Frank intends calling with me on the aged pastor, whom we have not seen except at church. Our landlord speaks of him with the greatest enthusiasm and affection; and ascribes the peace and prosperity of the place mainly to his influence, and untiring efforts for the good of his people. _Friday, December 20th._ There is very little variety in our life, and I fear, I shall not be able to relate much that will interest you. I give six hours a day to the children, while Pauline recites in mathematics and Italian to her father. I wish, dear mother, you could see our Pauline again. She reminds me of an author, who describing a young lady, says, "she is near that age, sixteen, at which every day brings with it some new beauty to her form." No one can be more modest, nor, (which seems wonderful in a woman,) more silent; yet when she speaks you might believe a muse was speaking. But then her face, "So lovely, yet so arch, so full of mirth, The overflowings of an innocent heart." She is silent only when strangers are present. In the company of those she loves, she is all animation, and merriment. Her father says it is a perfect delight to teach her. The remainder of the school hours Frank devotes to reading, which is a real luxury to him, reserving his walks until we can accompany him.