And now we're here, I must say it is a charming place; and for real life and enjoyment, there 's probably not its equal in Europe. And then, Molly, the great feature is certainly the universal kindness and charity that prevails. You may do what you like, wear what you like, go where you like. I was a little bit afraid at first that the story of K. I. would get abroad and damage us in society; but Lord George said: "You mistake Baden, my dear Mrs. Dodd. If there 's anything they 're peculiarly lenient to, it's just _that_. There's no cant, no hypocrisy here; nobody would endure such for an hour. Everybody knows that the world is not peopled with angels, and England is the only country where they affect that delusion. Here all are natural, sincere, and candid." These were his words, and I assure you they are no more than the truth; and so far from K. I. 's conduct being regarded in any spirit of unfairness towards us, I really believe that we have met a great deal of delicate and refined notice on account of it. As Lord G. remarks, "They know that you don't belong to that strait-laced set of humbugs that want to frown down all mankind. They see at once that you have the habits of the world, and the instincts of good society, and that you come amongst them neither to criticise nor censure, but to please and be pleased." I quote his very expressions, Molly, because, with all his wildness, his sentiments are invariably beautiful; and I must say that an ill-natured word never comes out of his mouth. If there 's anything he excels in, too, it's tact. This he showed very remarkably when we arrived here. "We must do the thing handsomely," said he, "or we shall be sure to hear that Mr. D.'s absence is owing to pecuniary difficulties." And so, accordingly, he arranged to purchase a beautiful pair of gray ponies, and a small park phaeton, belonging to a young Russian, that was just ruined at the tables. We got the whole equipage for little more than half what it cost, and a tiger--as they call the little boy in buttons--goes with it. We have taken the first apartment in the "Cour de Bade," and have put Paddy Byrne in a suit of green and gold, that always reminds me of poor Daniel O'Connell. Lord G. drives me out every day himself, and I hear all the passers-by say, "It's Tiverton and Mrs. Dodd," in a manner that shows we 're as well known as the first people in the place. He is acquainted with every man, woman, and child in the town; and it is a perpetual "How are ye, Tiverton?"--"How goes it, George?"--"At the old trade, eh?"--as we drive along, that amuses me greatly. And it isn't only that he knows them personally, but he is familiar with all their private histories. It would fill a book--and a nice volume it would be!--if I were to tell you one-half of the stories he told me yesterday, going down to Lichtenthal. But the names is so confusing. How he remembers them all, I can't conceive.