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personal joy in the few things I have secured.

I can scarcely realize that only a few more days are to pass before I sail for home.  Home will be very welcome, and it is in some ways much better that I should be there.  But a very strong influence is constantly at work to keep me here.  I cannot write you about it, but will tell you verbally after my return. 

It is strange, but I shall not give way to it.

I am seeing nothing of London, outside of the museums, private and public art collections, and Mr. Whistler and two or three of his warmest friends - one of whom Mons. Theodore Duret, the famous French collector and expert, I have found most charming.  The Whistler world or "guild" as Mons. Duret calls it, is a roving and undiscovered star, that some day will be found.  I prophesy its brilliancy will be equal to any, and go on undimed.

As for poor Mr. Whistler's physical condition I can say nothing hopeful.  He could say next nothing this afternoon, until just as I was leaving.  When he whispered "come tomorrow