ee anything of you for nearly three years. And I hope you too will
not be sorry to take me by the hand again.

"My ground for supposing it not unlikely that you will be at one of
the lakes, is the report I heard from Mr. Pigott, that such a plan was
hovering in your mind. My chief fear is that our return, which is not
likely at the latest to be later than the middle of June, may be too
early for us to find you. We reached Venice three days ago, after a
short stay at Milan, and have the delight of finding everything more
beautiful than it was to us four years ago. That is a satisfactory
experience to us, who are getting old, and are afraid of the
traditional loss of glory on the grass and all else, with which
melancholy poets threaten us.

"Mr. Lewes says I am to say the sweetest things that can be said with
propriety to you, and love to Bice, to whose memory he appeals, in
spite of all the friends she has made since he had the last kiss from
her.

"I too have love to send to Bice, whom I expect to see changed like
a lily-bud to something more definitely promising. Mr. Trollope,
I suppose, is in England by this time, else I should say all
affectionate regards from us both to him. I am writing under
difficulties.

"Ever, dear Mrs. Trollope,

"Very sincerely yours,

"M.E. LEWES."

* * * * *

Here is another from Lewes, which the post-mark only shows to have
been written in 1865:--

* * * * *

"DEAR TROLLOPE,--Thank Signor ---- for the offer of his paper, and
express to him my regret that in the present crowded state of the
_Review_ I cannot find a place for it. Don't you however run away with
the idea that I don t want _your_ contributions on the same ground!
The fact is ----'s paper is too wordy and heavy and not of sufficient
interest for our publication; and as I have a great many well on hand,
I am forced to be particular. Originally my fear was lest we should
not get contributors enough. That fear has long vanished. But _good_
contributions are always scarce; so don't you fail me!

"We have been at Tunbridge Wells for a fortnight's holiday. I was
forced to 'cave in,' as the Yankees say--regularly beat. I am not very
flourishing now, but I can go into harness again. Polly has been,
and alas! still is, anything but in a satisfactory state. But she is
gestating, and gestation with her is always perturbing. I wish the
book were done with all my