My beloved Mother.--I forgot to mention your birthday when I last wrote, but you know how glad I am that you were born! And how much I prize every year that is added to your life; and now as this will find you at dear Mary's, please give her my fond love and best wishes for this day, and I shall drink her health to-day, and call upon my sons to do the same. I posted my last letter at Montreal on Thursday; Dick was quite ill that day, and after seeing him twice and shopping, I bid good-bye to Mr. Angus, who went to New York, and then Miss Angus drove me to see poor Mrs. Walter Brown, whose husband was dying at the Hospital. I sent my card in and she asked to see me. I did not know her much, but it was very touching, and I felt my heart quite drawn to the poor young woman, who came out with her husband on a pleasure trip, and now has to leave him buried in a far land. He got typhoid fever, and inflammation of the lungs, and was lying unconscious on a hospital bed, while she sobbed on my shoulder, and said "Oh what shall I do? what shall I do?" I asked her if she had any difficulty about money matters, but she said Captain Douglas Galton had called and kindly arranged everything for her with one of our kind hosts at Montreal. Her father was coming out to her as fast as he could, but could not be at New York till the 12th, and her poor husband died that night, and was buried yesterday. After this, which upset me much, I went to the Stephens' and met John and E--- and told them, and John went off also to see Mrs. Brown, for Mr. Brown had been a friend of his. The Stephens' house is very gorgeous, and full of beautiful satin-wood walls, and the staircase finely carved mahogany. Mr. Angus' house, too, has much beautiful carved wood about it, but the houses are kept so dark on account of the heat and flies, that one can hardly see well enough to appreciate these beauties. Excepting in this respect, and the amount of carved wood, the style is very like the houses of the middle class of well-to-do men in Scotland.