I wish you were here this morning, Dear, as the Embassy is a curiosity--might just as well be in Kamtchatka as far as the outside world is concerned--for nothing exists beyond the walls of the house. When they drew back my curtains this morning I couldn't really think for a moment where I was. Adelaide had a lighted candle in her hand (it was 8.30 o'clock in the morning) and I thought my window panes had been painted a dirty yellow in the night. However it was only a yellow London fog; I could literally see nothing when I went to the window. It has lightened now a little, but we have had lamps for breakfast, and I am writing with my candles! The big shops opposite are all lighted, and one sees little glimmers of light through the fog. I can't see across the street. The fog gets into everything--was quite thick and perceptible in the hall when we went down to breakfast. The coachman has been in and said he couldn't take out his horses, not even with a link-boy running alongside, so let us hope it will brighten up a little in the course of the afternoon. December 16th. The fog did lift about 4; but the day was trying and the traces most evident the next day, as everything in the house was filthy--all the silver candlesticks and little silver ornaments that are on the tables; the white curtains--in fact everything one touched. I should think laundresses would make their fortune in London. My maid came to my room about 3 o'clock, just as I was going out, with her apron really black with smuts. I said, "What in the world have you been doing, cleaning the chimneys?" "Non, Madame, je n'ai fait que travailler chez Madame et dans la lingerie; j'ai voulu montrer mon tablier a Madame, c'est le troisieme que je mets depuis ce matin...!" December 17, 1885. Yesterday I made an excursion to the city with Hilda Deichmann and her husband to buy things for our Christmas trees. It was most amusing ransacking in all the big wholesale houses, and reminded me of my childish days and similar expeditions to Maiden Lane. There is so much always in England that recalls early days. I think it is not only the language, but the education and way of living are the same. We have read the same books and sung the same hymns, and understand things in the same way. Our shopping was most successful. All the prettiest things come from the German shops. The ginger-bread animals were wonderful,--some horses and dogs with gilt tails and ears most effective. The decorations were really very pretty--the stars and angels quite charming. When we had finished our shopping Deichmann took us to Pym's, a celebrated oyster cellar, to lunch. A funny little place well known to all City people. We had a capital lunch--all oysters.