I perceive, and with pleasure, that I shall pass much of my time in
South Carolina, and shall divide it between you and Theodosia; but the
mountains are my favourite residence. Which is my favourite daughter I
have not yet been able to decide. We must not, however, abandon
New-York. I will have you both here, if possible, every year, and at
Richmond Hill you shall renew the recollection of the happy hours of
your childhood.

I have been long impatient, my dear Natalie, to write you on this
subject, but I waited for advice from yourself. I was mortified to
learn from common report _only_ an event so nearly interesting, and
which I had supposed you would have communicated to me the first. Your
letter, however, has been long in America, and has travelled nearly
two thousand miles in pursuit of me, having come in this morning from
Charleston.

I arrived here on the 23d with Theodosia, her boy--a most lovely boy,
and her sister, Lady Nisbett, who salutes you as a sister, and longs
to embrace you. We had a most charming passage of seven days.

This is a great holyday. We are celebrating, with show and much noise,
the 4th of July. This may appear to you a little ridiculous when you
look at the date of this letter; but, _madame_, please to look at your
almanac, and you will see that yesterday was Sunday. I should not have
attempted to write to you amid so much bustle; but the good Mr.
Arcambal came in just as I received your letter, and informed me that
there was an immediate and safe opportunity to France, and I was
impatient to express to you and your husband my participation in your
joys, and hearty approbation of your union. God bless you, my dear
child.