Keats, to say how happy it
would make her "if I felt well enough to join her and Miss Herbert at
tea." For a second or two I knew not what to reply. That I was "well
enough," Francois was sure to report, and in my flushed condition I was,
perhaps, the picture of an exaggerated state of convalescence; so, after
a moment's hesitation, I muttered out a blundering excuse, on the plea
of having a couple of friends with me, "who had chanced to be just
passing through the town on their way to Italy."

I did not think Francois had time to report my answer, when I heard him
again at the door. It was, with his mistress's compliments, to say, she
"would be charmed if I would induce my friends to accompany me."

I had to hold my hand on my side with laughter as I heard this message,
so absurd was the proposition, and so ridiculous seemed the notion of
it. This, I say, was the first impression made upon my mind; and then,
almost as suddenly, there came another and very different one. "What is
the mission you have embraced, Potts?" asked I of myself. "If it have a
but or an object, is it not to overthrow the mean and unjust prejudices,
the miserable class distinctions, that separate the rich from the poor,
the great from the humble, the gifted from the ignorant? Have you ever
proposed to yourself a nobler conquest than over that vulgar tyranny
by which prosperity lords it over humble fortune? Have you imagined a
higher triumph than to make the man of purple and fine linen feel happy
in the companionship of him in smock-frock and high-lows? Could you ask
for a happier occasion to open the campaign than this? Mrs. Keats is an
admirable representative of her class; she has all the rigid prejudices
of her condition; her sympathies may rise, but they never fall; she can
feel for the sorrows of the well-born, she has no concern for vulgar
afflictions. How admirable the opportunity to show her that grace and
genius and beauty are of all ranks! And Miss Herbert, too, what a test
it will be of _her!_ If she really have greatness of soul, if there
be in her nature a spirit that rises above petty conventionalities and
miserable ceremonials, she will take this young creature to her heart
like a sister. I think I see them with arms entwined,--two lovely
flowers on one stalk,--the dark crimson rose and the pale hyacinth! Oh,
Potts! this would be a nobler victory to achieve than to rend battalions
with grape, or ride down squadrons with the crash