MY DEAR HOWE,--Drive to-night to St. Giles's Church. Be there at half-past 11--and wait. One of Tracey's people will put his head into the coach after a Venetian and mysterious fashion, and breathe your name. Follow that man. Trust him to the death. So no more at present from THE MASK. Ninth June, 1843. Horace Mann was of the party on most of these investigations. Beside dinners and evening parties, there were breakfasts, with Richard Monckton Milnes (afterward Lord Houghton), with Samuel Rogers,--who gave them plovers' eggs,--and with jovial Sir Robert Harry Inglis, who cut the loaf at either end, giving the guests "a slice or a hunch" at their desire. This meal, our mother notes, was not "a luncheon in disguise," but a genuine breakfast, at ten or even half-past nine o'clock. She writes to her sister Louisa:-- "People have been very kind to us--we have one or two engagements for every day this week, and had three dinners for one day, two of which we were, of course, forced to decline. We had a pleasant dinner at Dickens's, on Saturday--a very handsome entertainment, consisting of all manner of good things. Dickens led me in to dinner--waxed quite genial over his wine, and was more natural than I ever saw him--after dinner we had coffee, conversation and music, to which I lent my little wee voice! We did not get home until half-past eleven.... Annie has doubtless told you how we went to see Carlyle, and Mrs. was out, and I poured tea for him, and he handed me the preserves with: 'I do not know what thae little things are, perhaps you can eat them--I never touch them mysel'.' This naturally made me laugh--we had a strange but pleasant evening with him--he is about forty, looks young for that, drinks powerful tea, and then goes it strong upon all subjects, but without extravagance--he has a fine head, an earnest face, a glowing eye.... Furthermore, we have walked into the affections of the Hon. Basil Montagu, and Mrs. Basil--furthermore, Annie and I did went alone to a rout at Mrs. Sydney Smith's, and were announced, 'Mrs. 'Owe hand Miss Vord'--did not know a soul, Annie frightened, I bored--got hold of some good people--made friends, drank execrable tea, finished the evening by a crack with Sir Sydney himself, and came off victorious, that is to say alive. Sir S. very like old Mrs. Prime, three chins, and such a corporosity!...