We are very busy these days making our "pacquets," as we leave in three days. I am sorry to go, as I have so much enjoyed the quiet life with the sisters and the children. We have seen few people, as we are not in the fashionable quarter, but we have become most intimate with all the fishing population. The young women and girls jibe at us when we go shrimp fishing, on terms of perfect equality--there are no distinctions in the sea--because we have not the sleight of hand necessary to jerk the shining, slippery little fish into the basket from the net. Some local swell, the Mayor, I think, came to see me the other day, and was told I was on the beach, so he came down and was much astonished when they pointed out to him Madame l'Ambassadrice in a hat and feathers, diamond ear-rings, very short skirts, and neither shoes nor stockings, walking up to her knees in the water with a fishing-net in one hand and a basket in the other, and followed by her little son and niece similarly equipped, all quite happy and engrossed with their sport. We have one or two country visits to make, and then I must have some time in Paris to dismantle my house and make my preparations for London. _To J. K._ #Mersham Hatch, Ashford, Kent#, Wednesday, November 28, 1883. You will say I am taking up my old habits of writing to you always from the country, but you cannot imagine how busy I have been in London since I came over just 2 weeks ago to-day. We came down here Monday afternoon to stay with W.'s old college friend and cousin, Charles Monk. The house and park are charming--quantities of large, comfortable rooms, and capital shooting. The gentlemen brought down a great many pheasants yesterday. The party in the house are Lord and Lady Abinger and Miss Scarlett, Sir George and Lady Chetwode, Mr. Leveson-Gower, a brother of Lord Granville, with a most polished courteous manner; a Mr. Price W. Powel, and a young Wm. Gladstone, nephew of the Premier. Monk has no wife, and three unmarried daughters; the eldest, Julia, does the honours very well and simply. I absolutely declined the 9.30 breakfast and asked to have my tea sent up to me. Yesterday I came down about 12, took a little turn in the garden until one, and at 1.30 had luncheon. Then we went for a drive to Eastwood, the Duke of Edinburgh's place. The house is not so large as this, but the park is charming, with quantities of deer. We had tea when we came in--some of the gentlemen appeared and we dined at 8, all the ladies most gorgeous in satin, lace, and diamonds, the girls generally in white. After dinner we talked a little, then some of them played whist, and the young ladies sang. This morning the gentlemen have started again shooting, and I shall sit in my room quite quietly until 12, which gives me an hour and a half with the ladies before luncheon. [Illustration: The Dining room of the French Embassy, London, Showing its Two Famous Gobelin Tapestries] Thursday, 29th.