the tears pouring down her cheeks, not able to look, for emotion, at the
shawl we had brought her from England. Poor Italians! who can help
caring for them, and feeling for them in their utter prostration just
now? The unanimity of despair on all sides is an affecting thing, I can
assure you. There is no mistake _here_, no possibility of mistake or
doubt as to the sentiment of the people towards the actual régime; and
if your English newspapers earnestly want to sympathise with an
oppressed people, let them speak a little for Tuscany. The most hopeful
word we have heard uttered by the Italians is, 'Surely it cannot last.'
It is the hope of the agonising.

But our 'carta di soggiorno' was sent to us duly. The government is not
over learned in literature, oh no....

And only Robert has seen Mr. Powers yet, for he is in the crisis of
removal to a new house and studio, a great improvement on the last, and
an excellent sign of prosperity of course. He is to come to us some
evening as soon as he can take breath. We have had visits from the
attachés at the English embassy here, Mr. Wolf, and Mr. Lytton,[16] Sir
E. Bulwer Lytton's son, and I think we shall like the latter, who (a
reason for my particular sympathy) is inclined to various sorts of
spiritualism, and given to the magic arts. He told me yesterday that
several of the American rapping spirits are imported to Knebworth, to
his father's great satisfaction. A very young man, as you may suppose,
the son is; refined and gentle in manners. Sir Henry Bulwer is absent
from Florence just now.

As to our house, it really looks better to my eyes than it used to look.
Mr. Lytton wondered yesterday how we could think of leaving it, and so
do I, almost. The letting has answered well enough; that is, it has paid