will set it down as excellent poet's work in the way of
domestic economy; but the fault was altogether mine as usual, and
my husband, to please me, took rooms which I could not be pleased
by three days, through the absence of sunshine and warmth. The
consequence was that we had to pay heaps of guineas away for leave
to go away ourselves, any alternative being preferable to a return of
illness, and I am sure I should have been ill if we had persisted in
staying there. You can scarcely fancy the wonderful difference which
the sun makes in Italy. Oh, he isn't a mere 'round O' in the air in
this Italy, I assure you! He makes us feel that he rules the day to
all intents and purposes. So away we came into the blaze of him here
in the Piazza Pitti, precisely opposite the Grand Duke's palace, I
with my remorse, and poor Robert without a single reproach. Any other
man, a little lower than the angels, would have stamped and sworn a
little for the mere relief of the thing, but as to _his_ being angry
with _me_ for any cause, except not eating enough dinner, the said
sun would turn the wrong way first. So here we are on the Pitti till
April, in small rooms yellow with sunshine from morning to evening;
and most days I am able to get out into the piazza, and walk up and
down for some twenty minutes without feeling a shadow of breath from
the actual winter. Also it is pleasant to be close to the Raffaels,
to say nothing of the immense advantage of the festa days, when,
day after day, the civic guard comes to show the whole population of
Florence, their Grand Duke inclusive, the new helmets and epaulettes
and the glory thereof. They have swords, too, I believe, somewhere.
The crowds come and come, like children to see rows of dolls, only the
children would tire sooner than the Tuscans. Robert said musingly the
other morning as we stood at the window, 'Surely, after all this, they
would _use_ those muskets.' It's a problem, a 'grand peut-etre.' I
was rather amused by hearing lately that our civic heroes had the
gallantry to propose to the ancient military that these last should
do the night work, i.e. when nobody was looking on and there was no
credit, as they found it dull and fatiguing. Ah, one laughs, you see;
one can't help it now and then. But at the real and rising feeling of
the people by night and day one doesn't laugh indeed. I hear and
see with the deepest sympathy of soul, on the contrary. I love the
Italians, too, and none th