little contacts and momentary clasps, just as they inevitably do over
Italian lessons. Suppose one should say to any young wife: "I find that
your husband is poring over the Italian poets and being instructed in the
beautiful Italian language by the lovely Cornelia Robinson"--would that
cozy picture fail to rise before her mind? would its possibilities fail
to suggest themselves to her? would there be a pang in her heart and a
blush on her face? or, on the contrary, would the remark give her
pleasure, make her joyous and gay? Why, one needs only to make the
experiment--the result will not be uncertain.

However, we learn--by authority of deeply reasoned and searching
conjecture--that the baby bore the journey well, and that that was why
the young wife was happy. That accounts for two per cent. of the
happiness, but it was not right to imply that it accounted for the other
ninety-eight also.

Peacock, a scholar, poet, and friend of the Shelleys, was of their party
when they went away. He used to laugh at the Boinville menagerie, and
"was not a favorite." One of the Boinville group, writing to Hogg, said,
"The Shelleys have made an addition to their party in the person of a
cold scholar, who, I think, has neither taste nor feeling. This, Shelley
will perceive sooner or later, for his warm nature craves sympathy."
True, and Shelley will fight his way back there to get it--there will be
no way to head him off.

Towards the end of November it was necessary for Shelley to pay a
business visit to London, and he conceived the project of leaving Harriet
and the baby in Edinburgh with Harriet's sister, Eliza Westbrook,
a sensible, practical maiden lady about thirty years old, who had spent
a great part of her time with the family since the marriage. She was