That's what I said to him; but I didn't say that the question, pointed by
his candid young countenance, had, for the moment, a greater force than
it had ever had before.

And then he asked me whether, as things had turned out, I myself had been
so especially happy.

PARIS, _December_ 17th.--A note from young Stanmer, whom I saw in
Florence--a remarkable little note, dated Rome, and worth transcribing.

"My dear General--I have it at heart to tell you that I was married a
week ago to the Countess Salvi-Scarabelli. You talked me into a great
muddle; but a month after that it was all very clear. Things that
involve a risk are like the Christian faith; they must be seen from
the inside.--Yours ever, E. S.

"P. S.--A fig for analogies unless you can find an analogy for my
happiness!"

His happiness makes him very clever. I hope it will last--I mean his
cleverness, not his happiness.

LONDON, _April_ 19th, 1877.--Last night, at Lady H---'s, I met Edmund
Stanmer, who married Bianca Salvi's daughter. I heard the other day that
they had come to England. A handsome young fellow, with a fresh
contented face. He reminded me of Florence, which I didn't pretend to
forget; but it was rather awkward, for I remember I used to disparage
that woman to him. I had a complete theory about her. But he didn't
seem at all stiff; on the contrary, he appeared to enjoy our encounter. I