It is time that you should be thanked for the notes you kindly sent us. They will come of use later. You will wish to know what we have been doing for the past month, only a month by the almanac, for we left England October 1, and Paris on the 6th, the latter being the date we count from. So that there is not yet quite a month of travel, yet it seems a long while, as if stored with a year’s memories. And the weather throughout has been superb. One cold day in Paris, and some cool nights between Bordeaux and Madrid; and then, even at Madrid, we had summer rather than autumn weather, until, ascending from Malaga to this higher region, the cool and fresh air which comes down from the snow-flecked Sierra Nevada makes the sunshine pleasant and wraps desirable at nightfall. A few midday hours served for Orleans, and we went on to Blois. You know how very charming that is, and you may imagine Mrs. Gray’s delight at the castle, also at Chambord, to which we drove. Two nights there and three at Tours. The cathedral charmed us; also the old houses and ruined bits and towers. We passed Amboise, and went from Tours to Chenonceaux and back by railway,--a bijou to be enjoyed; but the next day’s excursion to Lôches had a much deeper and more varied interest. By traveling over night to Bayonne and passing Biarritz at sunrise, a noble sunrise and morning, with the Atlantic on one side and the Cantabrian Pyrenees on the other, we gained the privilege of a daylight journey from Irun to Burgos. It is far more picturesque and striking than I had supposed. A day at Burgos was a treat, as you may suppose. Leon lay out of our track and demanded night hours and night changes too severe and too formidable for a couple ignorant of Spanish and impatient of couriers. So we went on overnight to Madrid (night travel being inevitable); and here we had a warm, sunny, busy, and most enjoyable week, some pleasant home-friends for companions, as also a charming Spanish family, M. and Mme. Riaño, whom we had met at our minister’s, Lowell, at London. She is a daughter of Gayangos and had an English mother; is a charming mixture of Spanish and English and everything that is bright and good. Then there was a raree-show not to be matched out of Spain: the royal family with the infanta going to church in state, the grand procession kindly going and returning under our windows. The Armeria and, still more, the Archeological Museum were full of the Old World things we Americans dote on. And then the great picture-gallery, supplemented not a little by the Academia San Fernando. Add to these the pictures at Seville, and imagine the treat we have had. I shall leave all this for Mrs. Gray to expatiate upon next winter.