“There is a passage in your note which pleased me. You say if you had a daughter you would give her to me. If you _had_ one I certainly would take you at your word, provided this _exposé_ of my poverty did not change your fancy. I should like to marry in England, and I feel every day (more and more) that my best years and best affections are running to waste. I am proud to _be_ an American, but as a literary man, I would rather live in England. So if you know any affectionate and _good_ girl who would be content to live rather a quiet life, and could love your humble servant, you have full power of attorney to dispose of me, _provided_ she has _five hundred_ a year, or as much more as she likes. I know enough of the world to cut my throat sooner than bring a delicate woman down to a dependence on my brains for support, though in a case of exigency I could always retreat to America, and live comfortably by my labors. Meantime I am the only sufferer by my poverty, and am _not_ poor, for no man is so who lives upon his income. _Comprends-tu?_ My dear friend, I have told you what I have told no other person in the world. Most men and women would think it incredible that an _attaché_ to a legation could keep up appearances on two hundred a year, or pity him if he could; and I never thought anybody worth the confidence--save only yourself. I would tell Miss Porter just the same, or Mr. Swinton, but who else? No one! so _gardez cela_! “I enjoyed the ball at the Ravenshaws’ exceedingly, and am so much obliged to you for introducing me to Praed, whom I like.” “I have one or two homes in England,” wrote Willis to his mother, July 22, 1835, “where I am loved like a child. I had a letter the other day from Honorable Mrs. Shaw, who fancied I looked low-spirited at the opera. ‘Young men have but two causes of unhappiness,’ she says, ‘_love_ and _money_. If it is money, Mr. Shaw wishes me to say, you shall have as much as you want; if it is _love_, tell us the lady, and perhaps we can help you.’ Where could be kinder friends? I spend my Sundays alternately at their splendid country house and Mrs. Skinner’s, and they never can get enough of me. I have a room always kept for me at both places, and there is universal rejoicing when I come and mourning when I go. I am often asked whether I carry a love philter with me; yet with all the uncommon honors and favors shown me in England, I assure you I never asked or made interest directly or indirectly for any acquaintance or any favor since I landed at Dover. _What has come_ has come of its own accord.”