e girl I remember so well. Do you
remember how she, with her sister, walked before us on our way
homeward from the Piazza on nearly our last evening? And how prettily
she asked me at her own house to write in her Birthday Book! All this
sudden extinction of light in the gay Ca' Bembo, where I saw the silks
bespread before your knowledge and my ignorance!

"It is needless to say how much I pity the Princess, and her kindly
husband, too, and I am sorry, very sorry, for you also, Dear Friend of
mine, well knowing how you must have suffered in degree."

Mrs. Bronson had a talent for the writing of drawing-room comedies, and to
one of these the poet alludes:

"DEAR FRIEND,--I kept your Comedietta by me a whole week that I might
taste of it again and again; how clever it is, who can know better
than I, who furnished the bare framework which your Virginia creeper
has over-flourished so charmingly? It is all capitally done; quite as
much elaborated as the little conception was worth; but its great
value to me is the proof it really gives what really good work you
might do on a larger scale....

"... I dined last evening at John Murray's, in the room where used to
meet Byron, Scott, Moore, all those famous men of old, whose portraits
still adorn the walls. Murray told me he well remembered Byron and his
ways; could still in fancy see him and Scott, and also hear them, as
they stamped heavily (lame as both were) down the somewhat narrow
stairs. Sociability may well come to the relief of people who cannot
amuse themselves at home, for the weather, mild, and too mild, is
gray, sunless and spiritless, altogether. To-day it rains, a rare
occurrence...."

One of the very pleasant interludes in Mr. Browning's life came about this
time in the receipt of a letter from Professor Masson of the University of
Edinburgh, inviting the poet to be his guest the week of the coming
Tercentenary celebration of the University. It had been decided to confer
on Mr. Browning an Honorary Degree, but by some misadventure the official
letter announcing this had not reached him, and in reply to Professor
Masson he wrote that he had not received "the invitation to Edinburgh
which occasions this particularly kind one," which he thankfully
acknowledged, "but I should find it difficult if not impossible to leave
London in April," he continues, "as my son wil