Enveloped in her thick shawl H. reclined in the
stern, and gave herself to the influences of the hour.
Darkness came down upon the deep. And in the gloom we turned our prows
towards the many-twinkling quays, far in the distance. We bent to the
oar in emulous contest, and our barks foamed and hissed through the
water. In a few moments we were passing through the noisy crowd on the
quay towards our quiet home.
LETTER XXXII.
DEAR CHILDREN:--
I promised to write from Chamouni, so to commence at the commencement.
Fancy me, on a broiling day in July, panting with the heat, gazing
from my window in Geneva upon Lake Leman, which reflects the sun like
a burning glass, and thinking whether in America, or any where else,
it was ever so hot before. This was quite a new view of the subject to
me, who had been warned in Paris only of the necessity of blanket
shawls, and had come to Switzerland with my head full of glaciers, and
my trunk full of furs.
While arranging my travelling preparations, Madame F. enters.
"Have you considered how cold it is up there?" she inquires.
"I am glad if it is cold any where," said I.
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