The people here begin to interest me more than they did at first; all continue very kind, and I think well satisfied. When I came here, I did not care one straw what was thought of my personal appearance, I dressed entirely from a principle of self-respect; now I sometimes dress for others, and feel a slight satisfaction if the glass tells me I shall not scare people. Is not this a good sign?... Do not imagine I am going to make myself a whole just at present; the fact is I cannot find my other half here, but only about a sixth, which would not do. There are two rather eligible young males here, whose mothers have for some time been electioneering for wives; one tall, the other short, with very pretty names, of good family, and with tolerable fortune, but unfortunately one seems to me a dolt, the other, well, not wise, so I keep them at a respectful distance, which you know I am quite capable of doing. There is a spot called Lovers’ Grove, about three-quarters of a mile from the town, a sweet place on the river bank, encircled by trees, with a hill behind, and a delightful walk by the river-side connecting it with the ‘city.’ This used to be my Sunday afternoon stroll, but unfortunately it is the favourite resort of the beaux and belles of Henderson, who, during the summer, after afternoon church, regularly promenade thither, in groups of four or five, and meet accidentally on purpose. Here they stroll about, recline on the grass, watch the steamboats, flirt a very little (it being Sunday), and carve one another’s names, and sentimental verses, on the unfortunate locust trees. I had many offers of an escort thither and as many beaux as I might desire. I went once or twice, but at last got dreadfully tired of it, so while my party was busily engaged round a tree, I started off on a good brisk walk home, where, some time after, the others arrived, in some consternation to know how or why I had so suddenly vanished. I laughed at them and their sentimental doings, and they have not invited me since. I had a very pleasant drive yesterday to make a bridal call on the Presbyterian minister, who has been quite polite. The country reminded me in some parts of our charming Staten Island drives, though the scenery here will not, of course, compare with that little gem.