Father Prout was in Florence for some two hours in passing to Rome, and of course, according to contract of spirits of the air, Robert met him, and heard a great deal of you and Geddie (saw Geddie’s picture, by the way, and thought it very like), was told much to the advantage of Mr. Macpherson,[170] and at the end of all, kissed in the open street as the speaker was about to disappear in the diligence.  When you write, tell me of the book.  Surely it will be out anon, and then you will be free, shall you not?  Have you seen Tennyson’s new poem, and what of it?  Miss Martineau is to discourse about Egypt, I suppose; but in the meanwhile do you hear that she forswears mesmerism, as Mr. Spenser Hall does, according to the report Robert brings me home from the newspaper reading.  Now I shall leave him room to stand on and speak a word to you.  Give my love to Gerardine, and don’t forget to mention her letter.  I hope you are happy about your friends, and that, in particular, Lady Byron’s health is strengthening and to strengthen.  Always my dear friend’s

Most affectionate
E.B.B.

Dear Aunt Nina,—­A corner is just the place for eating Christmas pies in, but for venting Christmas wishes, hardly!  What has Ba told you and wished you in the way of love?  I wish you the same and love you the same, but Geddie, being part of you, gets her due part.  We are as happy as two owls in a hole, two toads under a tree stump; or any other queer two poking creatures that we let live, after the fashion of their black hearts, only Ba is fat and rosy; yes, indeed!  Florence is empty and pleasant.  Goodbye, therefore, till next year—­shall it not be then we meet?  God bless you.  R.B.

[Footnote 170:  Miss Bate’s fiance.]

To Miss Mitford Florence:  February 22, [1848].

Your letter, my dearest friend, which was written, a part at least, before Christmas, came lingering in long after the new year had seen out its matins.  Oh, I had wondered so, and wished so over the long silence.  My fault, perhaps in a measure, for I know how silent I was before.  Yes, and you tell me of your having been unwell (bad news), and of your dear Flush’s death, which made me sorrowful for you, as I might reasonably be.  And now tell me more.  Have you a successor to him?  Once you told me that one of the race was in training, but as you say nothing now I am all in a doubt.  Let me hear everything.  If I had been you, I think I should have preferred some quite other kind of dog, as the unlikeness of a likeness would be apt to bring a pain to me; but people can’t reason about feelings, and feelings are like the colour of eyes, not the same in different faces, however general may be the proximity of noses....  The great subject with everybody just now is the new hope of Italy, and the liberal constitution, given nobly by our good, excellent Grand Duke, whose praise is in all the houses, streets, and piazzas.  The other