FALCONHURST, June 8th, 1857.
—Our last day ! I went to the dear little church for the last service, and hovering about near it was caught by Mr. Hunt, who walked and talked home with me. A sort of recapitulation of what he has said before. I made Witherby show me at the last minute a cunning nightingale's and a nettle-creeper's nests, close to each other in some brushwood, and was only back in time for some goodbyes. I saved a daisy from among my Confirmation ones which were all expanding in water, stuffed the beautiful little nest of the Portugal laurel chaffinch into my pocket, with the cuckoo's egg in it, and we all set off in the car, and two other conveyances : Papa and Mamma in the pony carriage. We have left a bright blessed time behind us.
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