PART 2
31. CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
(continued)
Today was fair, and we went to Hyde Park, close by, for we
are more aristocratic than we look. The Duke of Devonshire lives
near. I often see his footmen lounging at the back gate, and
the Duke of Wellington's house is not far off. Such sights as I
saw, my dear! It was as good as Punch, for there were fat dowagers
rolling about in their red and yellow coaches, with gorgeous
Jeameses in silk stockings and velvet coats, up behind, and powdered
coachmen in front. Smart maids, with the rosiest children
I ever saw, handsome girls, looking half asleep, dandies in queer
English hats and lavender kids lounging about, and tall soldiers,
in short red jackets and muffin caps stuck on one side, looking
so funny I longed to sketch them.
Rotten Row means `Route de Roi', or the king's way, but
now it's more like a riding school than anything else. The
horses are splendid, and the men, especially the grooms, ride
well, but the women are stiff, and bounce, which isn't according
to our rules. I longed to show them a tearing American
gallop, for they trotted solemnly up and down, in their scant
habits and high hats, looking like the women in a toy Noah's
Ark. Everyone rides--old men, stout ladies, little children--
and the young folks do a deal of flirting here, I say a pair
exchange rose buds, for it's the thing to wear one in the
button-hole, and I thought it rather a nice little idea.
In the P.M. to Westminster Abbey, but don't expect me to
describe it, that's impossible, so I'll only say it was sublime!
This evening we are going to see Fechter, which will be an appropriate
end to the happiest day of my life.
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