We parted from our kind friends in the morning; came back and I sat a
while to Mr. Burnard, the sculptor, who entertained me with various
anecdotes. He had taken the bust of the Prince of Wales; and I
gathered from his statements that young princes have very much the
same feelings and desires that other little boys have, and that he has
a very judicious mother.
In the afternoon, Mr. S., Mrs. B., and I had a pleasant drive in Hyde
Park, as I used to read of heroines of romance doing in the old
novels. It is delightful to get into this fairyland of parks, so green
and beautiful, which embellish the West End.
In the evening we had an engagement at two places - at a Highland
School dinner, and at Mr. Charles Dickens's. I felt myself too much
exhausted for both, and so it was concluded that I should go to
neither, but try a little quiet drive into the country, and an early
retirement, as the most prudent termination of the week. While Mr. S.
prepared to go to the meeting of the Highland School Society, Mr. and
Mrs. B. took me a little drive into the country.
