I am very glad.

He can't rest from serious work in light literature, as I can; it wearies him, and there are hours which are on his hands, which is bad both for them and for him.

The secret of life is in full occupation, isn't it?
This world is not tenable on other terms.

So while I lie on the sofa and rest in a novel, Robert has a resource in his drawing; and really, with all his feeling and knowledge of art, some of the mechanical trick of it can't be out of place.
To-night he is going to Madame Mohl, who is well and as vivacious as ever.

When Monckton Milnes was in Paris he dined with him in company with Mignet, Cavour, George Sand, and an empty chair in which Lamartine was expected to sit.