Unknown author writes to unknown recipient regarding being unable to say much to the recipient or their household. The author writes, "You are under a sort of million horse-power of intellectual steam" that the recipient has due to their publishing. The author writes, "the girls heads are running over with Cathedrals, & Theartres, and Moss-grown towers & all sorts of things-It is of no use to try to say anything when the mercury ranges at 92 degrees in the shade." The author regrets that "the moment I....saw that you expected a joke from me, my mental dog secured to me to cling his tail & hide away entirely beyond my control." The author wishes she was going to England.