Isa has not quite killed herself with nursing him, a little of her being still left to express what has been.
Now, dear Fanny, I am going to try to tell you of _our_ plans.

No, 'plans' is not the word; our thoughts are in the purely elemental state so far.

But we _think_ of going to Rome (or Naples) at the far end of November, and of staying here as many days deep into October meanwhile as the cold mountain air will let us.

On leaving this place we go to Florence and wait.

Unless, indeed (which is possible too), we go to Egypt and the Holy Land, in which case we shall not remain where we are beyond the end of September....
I never could consent to receive my theology or any other species of guidance, in fact--from the 'spirits,' so called.