Mr. Browning also refers to her Memoirs, which he had just read, and
says: 'I saw her in those [I conclude earlier] days much oftener than
is set down, but she scarcely noticed me; though I always liked her
extremely.'

Another of Mrs. Browning's letters is written from Florence, June 6
('54):


'. . . We mean to stay at Florence a week or two longer and then go
northward. I love Florence--the place looks exquisitely beautiful in
its garden ground of vineyards and olive trees, sung round by the
nightingales day and night. . . . If you take one thing with another,
there is no place in the world like Florence, I am persuaded, for a
place to live in--cheap, tranquil, cheerful, beautiful, within the
limits of civilization yet out of the crush of it. . . . We have spent
two delicious evenings at villas outside the gates, one with young
Lytton, Sir Edward's son, of whom I have told you, I think. I like him
. . . we both do . . . from the bottom of our hearts. Then, our friend,
Frederick Tennyson, the new poet, we are delighted to see again.

. . . . .

'. . . Mrs. Sartoris has been here on her way to Rome, spending most of
her time with us . . . singing passionately and talking eloquently. She
is really charming. . . .'


I have no record of that northward journey or of the experiences of the