I can't conceive how you all stow yourselves in that little wreck of a mansion. Please to write over, in some way, the erased part of your letter. You must be very destitute of wit and contrivance. No essence in Washington. I still prefer musk, but not to be had. One would think you had suffered some injury from perfumes. Your message and commission to Mrs. Madison will be delivered. My mode of life, establishment, &c., are the same as last year, except that I bought a chariot, having some hope of seeing you and your husband here. As I shall not write again until I hear where you are, I may as well say now all that occurs to me.
On my way through Philadelphia I rode out to Lansdown, to see our beautiful little K. and Mrs. L. They appear to love you with all their hearts. K. especially talked of you with an interest which could not be affected. The ladies find fault with her dress, her person, her manners; in short, with every thing appertaining to her. Mrs. L. has also her full share of the eulogium. K. is _toujours belle_. At Wilmington I did not see friend S. She had gone to church. God bless thee.
It is from me, my dear sir, that apologies are due; but you have kindly anticipated all I could make. I thank you for this instance of your goodness; for your friendly recollection; above all, for the justice you do to my heart and feelings. Your last letter has been received. It is without date, and came by the mail of yesterday. You see that I am resolved not to furnish a new occasion for apologies by further negligence. Whether, after the adjournment, I shall go North or South, is yet undetermined. If northward, I propose to take the route which you had the goodness to describe, and to pass at least some hours with you. I shall insist on a dish of lillipee, in order to give a more dramatic effect to the review which we will take of past scenes.
Dearborn, now minister of war, was our fellow-traveller through the wilderness. If you will designate more particularly the papers you wish to recover, I will with pleasure make search for them. Accept, I pray you, the assurance of my undiminished regard and esteem.
Ever since the date of my last letter, for it was not forwarded till some days after, I have been quite ill; till within these two or three days totally unable to write. The whole family, as well as myself, had begun to think pretty seriously of my last journey; but, fortunately, I have had the pleasure of keeping them up a few nights, and drawing forth all their sensibility, without giving them the trouble of burying, mourning, &c.