From H. E. Darwin to Emma Darwin 8 June 1866

Dearest Mamy—

Y^r. scarified little note to W^m. has made me feel rather repentant for not having written yesterday—but it was such a scrimmagy day & I had to write to Hope as I don't believe she has got any of my last letters— However I know I oughted to & not to have trusted to y^r. hearing & understanding my message via Ravensbourne—I'll gin at the 'gining. We had a good rest on Monday & I saw the most lovely things near to Avignon & on Tuesday set off—& got a carriage to ourselves the whole way to Paris so the journey was not very tiring to E. & very little to me—I thk a night journey is such an invention— I told you I shdn't feel nervous but E. & I both found we had reckoned without our hosts—i.e. our nerves— We were in a very shaky carriage & we felt our hearts jump into our throats a good many times in the course of the night.

Getting in to Paris at 7 & eating our breffusts felt wery odd. The rooms at the Chatham turned out too poky & so we settled to move—only stopping for a thorough wash—a long operation after all the dust & dirt we had lain in all night. I don't like this hotel at all—but here we must stick— It is doing up & everything is in a state of muddle  the waiters are over worked & the food is so so. Not near so nice as our dear Chatham in these respects & it is a mile off every thing, but the Exposition—i.e. Royal Acad of France where W^m & I have been this morning— It is very hot in Paris—hotter than Cimiez by ever so much. It was a delightful surprise to find W^m. was coming & very nice to have him turn up yesterday morning  He doesn't m. like this hotel or little Miff— She & her petticoats & are not what young men like to go about Paris with. Yesterday we were both squashy so we went a drive in the Bois de Boulogne—which was not very successful—we were out too early for the fine people & poor W^m. was nothing but a mass of sleep. However I saw the place & kept his hat from tumbling off his knees—

In the evening after our dinner E. W^m. & I went a turn in the Champs Elyseés wh. was nice & to an outdoor concert wh. was not nice. Tonight play tomorrow opera—Monday or Tuesday home. So you are childless & desolate. Does it feel odd. I am glad to hear Lizzie & Lucy have struck up a friendship  I feel too stupid to write more—

Goodbye—I shall come home same day— It wd bore me to death to sleep in London | yr H. E. D.