I open my letter to say that Lord G. has just dropped in to tell me what is the plan of procedure. The Grand Duchess of Hohenschwillinghen is to arrive at Ems this week, and Mrs. G. H. is anxious to wait upon her at once. They were dear friends once, but something or other interposed a coolness between them of late years. Lord G. endeavored to explain this, but I couldn't follow the story. It was something about one of our royal family wanting to marry, or not to marry, somebody else, and that Mrs. G. H. or the Duchess had promoted or opposed the match. Suffice, it was a regular kingly shindy, and all engaged in it were of the blood royal. The really important thing at the moment is that the governor is to conduct Mrs. G. H. to-morrow to Ems, and we are to follow in a day or two. How my mother will receive this information, or who is to communicate it to her, are questions not so easily solved. LETTER XXI. MRS. DODD TO MISTRESS MARY GALLAGHER. My dear Molly,--If it wasn't that I am supported in a wonderful way, and that my appetite keeps good for the bit I eat, I would n't be able to sit down here and relate the sufferings of my afflicted heart There has been nothing but trials and tribulations over me since I wrote last, and I knew it was coming, too, for that dirty beast, Paddy Byrne, upset the lamp, and spilled all the oil over the sofa the other evening; and whilst the others were scouring and scrubbing with spirit of soap and neumonia, I sat down to cry heartily, for I foresaw what was coming; and I knew well that spilt oil is the unluckiest thing that ever happens in a family. Maybe I wasn't right The very next morning Betty Cobb goes and cuts my antic lace flounce down the middle, to make borders for caps; and that wasn't enough, but she puts the front breadth of my new flowered satin upside down, so that, "to make the roses go right," as James says, "I ought to walk on my head." That's spilt oil for you! Whilst I was endeavoring to bear up against these with all Christian animosity, in comes the post-bag. The very sight of it, Molly, gave me a turn; and, I declare to you, I knew as well there was bad news in it as if I was inside of it. You've often beard of a "presentment" Molly, and that's what I had; and when you have that, it's no matter what it's about, whether it's a road that's broke up, or a bridge that's broke down, take my advice, and never listen to what they call "reason," for it's just flying in the face of Providence. I had one before Mary Anne was born. I thought the poor baby would have the mark of a snail on her neck; and true enough, the very same week K. I. was shot through the skirts of his coat, and came home with five slugs in him; and when you think, as Father Maher said, "Slugs and snails are own brothers," or, at least, have a strong anomaly between them, my dream came true; not but I acknowledge, gratefully, that in this case the fright was worse than the reality.