osperous journey, except the sea voyage which prostrated all
of us--_Annunziata_, to 'the lowest deep' of misery. At Marseilles we
slept, and again at Lyons and Dijon, taking express trains the whole
way, so that there was as little fatigue as possible; and what with the
reviving change of air and these precautions, I felt less tired
throughout the journey than I have sometimes felt at Florence after a
long drive and much talking. We had scarcely any companions in the
carriages, and were able to stretch to the full longitude of us--a
comfort always; and I had 'Madame Ancelot,' and 'Doit et Avoir,' which
dropped into my bag from Isa's kind fingers on the last evening, and we
gathered 'Galignanis' and 'Illustrations' day by day. Travelling has
really become a luxury. I feel the _repose_ of it chiefly. Yes, no
possibility of unpleasant visitors! no fear of horrible letters! quite
lifted above the plane of bad news, or of the expectation of bad news,
which is nearly the same thing. There you are, shut in, in a carriage!
Quite out of reach of the telegraph even, which you mock at as you run
alongside the wires.

Yes, but some visitors, some faces, and voices are missed. And
altogether I was very sad at leaving my Italy, oh, very sad!...

Tell me how you like 'up in the villa' life, and how long you shall bear
it.

Paris! I have not been out of the house, except when I came into it. But
to-day, Thursday, I mean to drive out a little with Robert. You know I
have a _weakness_ for Paris, and a _passion_ for Italy; which would
operate thus, perhaps, that I could easily stay here when once here, if
there was but a sun to stay with me. We are in admiration, all of us, at
everything, from cutlets to costumes. On the latter point I shall give
myself great airs over you barbarians presently--no offence to
Zerlinda--and, to begin, pray draw your bonnets more over your faces.

I would rather send this bit than wait, as I did not write to you from
Marseilles.

May God bless you! If you knew how happy I think you for being in
Italy--if you knew.

I shiver with the cold. I tie up three loves to send you from

Your truly affectionate
BA.

* * * * *

_To Miss I. Blagden_

Hotel Hyacinthe, St. Honore, Paris:
Thursday [July 8, 1858].

My dearest dear Isa,--We are here, having lost nothing--neither a carpet
bag nor a bit of our true love for you. We arrived the evening before
last, and this lette