ourse you remember the latter--a lovely girl of purely blonde
style, whom we meet at Lady Berkeley's, and who created such
sensations in London circles on her first appearance in society.
Gerald declares that the face of an old friend is better than
medicine. What do you think he would say were you to enter rather
suddenly upon us? My dearest, I know what I would say if such an
overwhelming happiness were in store. These thoughts call up
feelings which are inimical to peace and content. I am almost
tempted to wish for the quiet of our English home and the sight of
your dear face. But this must not be. I shall forget to give you
some sights of Rome if I indulge in vain and foolish regrets.
Really I am at a loss how to convey any idea of such scenes as we
are almost daily witnessing. In the present instance I feel my
inability to appreciate what is lofty and inspiring to every
cultivated mind. Often I am inclined to envy those of brilliant
intellectual perceptions like yourself. When the day arrives that
you visit the Eternal City will it not be viewed in a different
sense than in the present under the ordinary gaze of your
short-sighted Rosamond?

Gerald says: "Tell Mary something of the churches," without
thinking of the arduous task therein devolved. Poor fellow! He
seems anxious to make amends for so much self-sacrifice. In
compliance to his wishes your friend reaps twofold pleasure,
therefore Mary shall hear "of the churches."

About three weeks ago a party of tourists, including the Croftons
and ourselves; visited several of the grand old churches, so
important in the history of Roman architecture of classic ages. The
first we entered was the church of the Ara Coeli, said to occupy
the site of the ancient temple of Jupiter Feretrius. It was a
gloomy old structure with long rows of pillars of Etruscan design.
On ascending the long flight of steep stairs on one side the
impressive gloom increased. The situation awoke old associations of
the sybilline and vague predictions of the time-honored
soothsayers--their power--their greatness--their fall. We were more
than impressed with the churches of St. Giovanni and St. Paolo,
beneath which lay in awful depths the subterranean caverns said to
be connected with the Coliseum. Gerald remained above