When this procession had passed with a word of salutation from each, with now a bow, and then a smile, Mrs. Marshall introduced to me a lady whose countenance I shall never forget. I should think her near fifty years of age, not handsome, but with a kind expression, full of mildness and benevolence. Frank addressed her very cordially, saying to me, "Miss Proctor is my particular friend." I gave her my hand again, and asked a share in her friendship. She was evidently much pleased, and pressed my hand at parting. Near the close of the evening, I met Mr. and Mrs. Russell, a very delightful couple. His manner reminded me of Frank's; dignified and rather reserved, yet easy and graceful in conversation. His wife, on the contrary, was full of life and spirits, original and witty. While we were in the refreshment room, I overheard several persons, talking about a woman lately deceased in the village. She was a French woman, and by her death her child was left without protection. I became quite interested for the poor foundling, and was glad to learn that Miss Proctor was to pass the night, in the hope of being able with mother, to provide for the little orphan. It was quite late; but Frank stopped at my request to hear more of her history. On Tuesday of this week, the day of our arrival, the French woman called at the public house, saying, in broken English, that she was ill and wished for a bed. The landlady attended her, and soon found it necessary to summon a physician. She grew rapidly worse and died the next evening. She had informed the landlady that the child was not hers, but entrusted to her care by its mother, to be conveyed from France to England. The vessel in which they sailed was wrecked. But they, with a few other passengers and some of the crew, were taken on board an American vessel and brought to New York. Beyond this nothing is known. I have quite an idea of adopting the foundling if Frank will consent. _Evening._ _Dear_, DEAR MOTHER.--On my way to see the little French girl, I told Frank it would please me to take the orphan. He smiled as he replied, "I shall certainly make no objection." I expected to see a poor, disconsolate child, weeping for its mother. Judge then of my astonishment, and delight, when I found a perfect little fairy. She is a brilliant brunette, with magnificent eyes, fringed with long black lashes, which rested on her cheek as she looked timidly down when I entered. I was so impressed with her appearance that I instinctively held out my arms, and said "_viens à moi, ma chère_!" The blood rushed to her face, as with a bound she sprang toward me, and laying her curly head on my breast, said, "_ma chère maman, je t'aime beau coup, beau coup_."