A few hours ago, it was just 11 o'clock, my Lady and I played a duet, she was playing the harp and I the piano. Then she suddenly gets up, walks into the adjoining room — I hear her speaking aloud — she steps in with the words: ‘I must just tell you, my dear, that we will be travelling to Ireland together in eight days.’ I was speechless with amazement. In eight days? To Ireland? Now I am learning, like a child learns her lesson. — The English decide to travel more spontaneously than we Germans do. They consult neither map, nor calendar, nor weather, nor their purse. The book Sophiens Reise von Memel nach Sachsen1 was astonishing in its day. Whereas Peter from Germany would turn back at the crossroads, the English travel enthusiast will drive straight into the crater and into the Rhine Falls. — From now on, your thoughts and letters must take a long journey — just do not get tired, dearest father! The house, or rather castle we will occupy is said to be near the town of Dungannon,