of a series of interjections in
praise of the poetry of gondolas, varied by allusions to the sad smell
of the low tide water, and the amazing quality of the heat; and then
Dahlia wrote more composedly:--

"Titian the painter lived here, and painted ladies, who sat to him
without a bit of garment on, and indeed, my darling, I often think it
was more comfortable for the model than for the artist. Even modesty
seems too hot a covering for human creatures here. The sun strikes me
down. I am ceasing to have a complexion. It is pleasant to know that my
Edward is still proud of me. He has made acquaintance with some of the
officers here, and seems pleased at the compliments they pay me.

"They have nice manners, and white uniforms that fit them like a
kid glove. I am Edward's 'resplendent wife.' A colonel of one of
the regiments invited him to dinner (speaking English), 'with your
resplendent wife.' Edward has no mercy for errors of language, and he
would not take me. Ah! who knows how strange men are! Never think
of being happy unless you can always be blind. I see you all at
home--Mother Dumpling and all--as I thought I should when I was to come
to Venice.

"Persuade--do persuade father that everything will be well. Some persons
are to be trusted. Make him feel it. I know that I am life itself to
Edward. He has lived as men do, and he can judge, and he knows that
there never was a wife who brought a heart to her husband like mine to
him. He wants to think, or he wants to smoke, and he leaves me; but, oh!
when he returns, he can scarcely believe that he has me, his joy is so
great. He looks like a glad thankful child, and he has the manliest of
faces. It is generally thoughtful; you might think it hard, at first
sight.

"But you must be beautiful to please some men. You will laugh--I have
really got the habit of talking to my face and all myself in the glass.
Rhoda would think me cracked. And it is really true that I was never so
humble about my good looks. You used to spoil me at home--you and that
wicked old Mother Dumpling, and our own dear mother, Rhoda--oh! mother,
mother! I wish I had always thought of you looking down on me! You made
me so vain--much more vain than I let you see I was. There were
times when it is quite true I thought myself a princess. I am not
worse-looking now, but I suppose I desire to be so beautiful that
nothing satisfies me.

"A spot on my neck gives me a dreadful fright. If my hair comes o