Then Mr. Kenyon suggested that Mr. Browning write and tell her so--"You
see she has just gotten out a new book, and we are all a little nervous
about how it is going to take. Miss Barrett lives in a darkened room, you
know--sees no one--and a letter from a man like you would encourage her
greatly."

Mr. Kenyon wrote the address of Miss Barrett on a card and pushed it
across the table.

Mr. Browning took the card, put it in his pocketbook and promised to write
Miss Barrett, as Mr. Kenyon requested.

And he did.

Miss Barrett replied.

Mr. Browning answered, and soon several letters a week were going in each
direction.

Not quite so many missives were being received by Fanny Haworth; and as
for Lizzie Flower, I fear she was quite forgotten. She fell into a
decline, drooped and died in a year.

Mr. Browning asked for permission to call on Miss Barrett.

Miss Barrett explained that her father would not allow it, neither would
the doctor or nurse, and added: "There is nothing to see in me. I am a
weed fit for the ground and darkness."