Then the book may be sent by the _book post_.

Wouldn't that do?
I shall give a copy to Dall' Ongaro (when I can get a supply), and one for the Trollopes also, never forgetting dear Kate! (and I do expect copies through the embassy) but I have not seen a word of the book yet.
I only know that, being Caesar's wife, I am not merely 'suspected' (poor wife!), but dishonored before the 'Athenaeum' world as an unnatural vixen, who, instead of staying at home and spinning wool, stays at home[84] and curses her own land.

'It is my own, my native land!' If, indeed, I had gone abroad and cursed other people's lands, there would have been no objection.

That poem, as addressed to America, has always been considered rather an amiable and domestic trait on my part.

But England! Heavens and earth! What a crime! The very suspicion of it is guilt.
The fact is, between you and me, Isa, certain of those quoted stanzas do '_fit_' England 'as if they were made for her,' which they were _not_, though....
According to your letters, Venetia seems pushed off into the future a little, don't you think?
Still, they are interesting, very.