There are many people coming here to pay their respects to the prince, who is the Woivode of this province, but they are not very interesting. The one person whom I like to see is the Prince Martin Lubomirski, the first cousin of the Woivode, but much younger, and whom I have already met in Warsaw. He owns the earldom of Janow, which is not far from here, and he has invited us very eagerly to pay him a visit; I hope we shall go. The princess always finds something to censure in him, but I like him very much; he talks most agreeably, and is a great friend of the Duke of Courland. JANOW, _Friday_, May 1. We have been here two days, and the Prince Martin announced from the very first that he would not let us go away soon. I do not think there can be found anywhere a host more generous, gay, and hospitable than the Prince Martin. The princess says that he sows his money broadcast as though he expected it to grow. He has now a new scheme on foot: they are cutting a road through a beautiful forest near the castle,--from my window I can see the magnificent trees fall under the axes of at least a hundred workmen,--and at the end of the road they are building a small palace, but in such haste that it seems to grow under one's eyes. There is a wager between the Prince Martin and the Prince Woivode that the building will be ready in four weeks, and I am sure the younger prince will be the winner. The whole forest is to be enclosed with a hedge and serve as a preserve. Men have been sent to distant places to bring deer and bears, besides the game which is found around here. There is some mystery about all that hasty work; I wonder what it is! This place is beautiful indeed. The old and majestic castle stands upon a hill above the Vistula, and commands a most admirable view over picturesque villages, forests, and the winding river. The halls and rooms are innumerable, the furniture rich and elegant, and the gallery of portraits is said to be the finest in the country. But my room seems to me the most charming of all; it is in a high tower, and it makes me feel like the heroine of a novel. From each of the three windows is a different view, each beautiful, but I sit most near the window looking towards the little palace, the progress of the work going on there interests me so very much. On the walls of my room is Olympus painted in fresco. "Venus lui manquait, mais il la possède maintenant," said Prince Martin, gallantly, when he brought me in. _Sunday_, March 3. I rose before the sun, and I must have looked like a ghost when I glided through the large halls, on my way to the gallery of portraits.