After which I certainly should have the courage to attempt the journey myself, if we had money enough.

Going to the Holy Land has been a favorite dream of Robert's and mine ever since we were married, and some day you will wonder why I don't write, and hear suddenly that I am lost in the desert.

You will wonder, too, at our wandering madness, by the way, more than at any rapping spirit extant; we have 'a spirit in our feet,' as Shelley says in his lovely Eastern song--and our child is as bad as either of us.

He says, 'I _tuite_ tired of _Flolence_.

I want to go to _Brome_,' which is worse than either of us.