Robert has the deep comfort of finding his father, on whose birthday we arrived, looking ten years younger--really, I may say so--and radiant with joy at seeing him and Peni.

Dear Mr.Browning and Sarianna will go with us wherever we go, of course.
Paris looks more beautiful than ever, and we were not too dead to see this as we drove through the streets on Wednesday evening.

The development of architectural splendour everywhere is really a sight worth coming to see, even from Italy.

Observe, I always feel the charm.
And yet I yearn back to my Florence--the dearer the farther.
We slept at Dijon, where Robert, in a passion of friendship, went out twice to stand before Maison Milsand (one of the shows of the town), and muse and bless the threshold.

Little did he dream that Milsand was there at that moment, having been called suddenly from Paris by the dangerous illness of his mother.