nate
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 evening, the evening after the
gift, he went privately to the opera, was recognised, and in a burst
of triumph and a glory of waxen torches was brought back to the Pitti
by the people. I was undressing to go to bed, had my hair down over my
shoulders under Wilson's ministry, when Robert called me to look out
of the window and see. Through the dark night a great flock of stars
seemed sweeping up the piazza, but not in silence, nor with very
heavenly noises. The '_Evvivas_' were deafening. So glad I was. _I,
too_, stood at the window and clapped my hands. If ever Grand Duke
deserved benediction this Duke does. We hear