Then on Friday I go south to Dumfries till Monday. I must write
small, or I shall have a tremendous budget by then.

7.20 P.M. - I must tell you a thing I saw to-day. I was going down
to Portobello in the train, when there came into the next
compartment (third class) an artisan, strongly marked with
smallpox, and with sunken, heavy eyes - a face hard and unkind, and
without anything lovely. There was a woman on the platform seeing
him off. At first sight, with her one eye blind and the whole cast
of her features strongly plebeian, and even vicious, she seemed as
unpleasant as the man; but there was something beautifully soft, a
sort of light of tenderness, as on some Dutch Madonna, that came
over her face when she looked at the man. They talked for a while
together through the window; the man seemed to have been asking
money. 'Ye ken the last time,' she said, 'I gave ye two shillin's
for your ludgin', and ye said - ' it died off into whisper.
Plainly Falstaff and Dame Quickly over again. The man laughed
unpleasantly, even cruelly, and said something; and the woman
turned her back on the carriage and stood a long while so, and, do
what I might, I could catch no glimpse of her expression, although
I thought I saw the heave of a sob in her shoulders. At last,
after the train was already in motion, she turned round and put two
shillings into his hand. I saw her stand and look after us with a
perfect heaven of love on her face - this poor one-eyed Madonna -
until the train was out of sight; but the man, sordidly happy with
his gains, did not put himself to the inconvenience of one glance
to thank her for her ill-deserved kindness.

I have been up at the Spec. and looked out a reference I wanted.
The whole town is drowned in white, wet vapour off the sea.