able by my hand; the lamp will
probably stand beside it; while Tassini tempts me to dip into him
every time I pass the book-case. I may never see the loved city again,
but where in the house will not some little incident of the then
unparalleled months, wake up memories of the gondola, and the
stopping, here and there, and the fun at Morchio's; the festive return
home, behind broad-backed Luigi; then the tea, and the dinner, and
Gargarin's crusty old port flavor, and the Dyers, and Ralph Curtis,
and O, the delightful times! Of Edith I say nothing because she has
herself, the darling! written to me, the surprise and joy of that! And
I mean to have a talk with her on paper, alas! my very self, and
induce her not to let me have the last word. Oh, my two beloveds I
must see Venice again; it would be heart-breaking to believe
otherwise. Of course I entered into all your doings, the pretty things
you got, and prettier, I am sure, you gave. And I was sorry, so sorry,
to hear that naughty Edith, no darling, for half a second, now I think
of it,--did not figure in the tableaux. I hope and believe, however,
she did dance in the New Year. Bid her avoid this cold-catching and
consequent headache. Do write, dearest friend, keep me _au courant_ of
everything. No minutest of your doings but is full of interest to me
and Sarianna. But I am at the paper's extreme edge. Were it elephant
folio (is there such a size?) it would not hold all I have in my
heart, and head, too, of love for you and "our Edie;" so, simply, God
bless you, my beloveds!

ROBERT BROWNING.

Princess Montenegro sent me by way of a New Year's card,--what do you
think? A pretty photograph of the Rezzonico. The young lady was
equally mindful of Sarianna.

R. B.

To Miss Edith Bronson the poet wrote, as follows:

DEAREST EDIE,--I did not reply to your letter at once for this reason;
an immediate answer might seem to imply I expected such a delightful
surprise every day, or week, or even month; and it was wise economy to
let you know that I can go on without a second piece of kindness till
you again have such a good impulse and yield to it--by no means
binding yourself to give me regularly such a pleasure. You shall owe
me nothing, but be as generous as is consistent with justice to other
people.... I did not go out except t