t Robert takes his share of the
blame in using and abusing you as we have done. It was altogether too
bad--shameful--to send that last MS. for you to copy out; and I did,
indeed, make a little outcry about it, only he insisted on having it
so. Was it very wrong, I wonder? Your kindness and affectionateness I
never doubt of; but if you are not quite strong just now, you might be
teased, in spite of your heart, by all that copying work--not pleasant
at any time. Well, believe that I thank you, at least gratefully, for
what you have done. So quickly too! The advertisement at the end
of the week proves how you must have worked for me. Thank you, dear
Sarianna.

Robert will have told you our schemes, and how we are going to work,
and are to love you _near_ for the future, I hope. You, who are wise,
will approve of us, I think, for keeping on our Florentine apartment,
so as to run no more risk than is necessary in making the Paris
experiment. We shall let the old dear rooms, and make money by them,
and keep them to fall back upon, in case we fail at Paris. 'But
we'll not fail.' Well, I hope not, though I am very brittle still and
susceptible to climate. Dearest Sarianna, it will do you infinite
good to come over to us every now and then--you want change, absolute
change of scene and air and climate, I am confident; and you never
will be right till you have had it. We talk, Robert and I, of carrying
you back with us to Rome next year as an English trophy. Meanwhile you
will see Wiedeman, you and dear Mr. Browning. Don't expect to see a
baby of Anak, that's all. Robert is always measuring him on the door,
and reporting such wonderful growth (some inch a week, I think), that
if you receive his reports you will cry out on beholding the child. At
least, you'll say: 'How little he must have been to be no larger now.'
You'll fancy he must have begun from a mustard-seed! The fact is, he
is small, only full of life and joy to the brim. I am not afraid of
your not loving him, nor of his not loving you. He has a loving little
heart, I assure you. If anyone pricks a finger with a needle he begins
to cry--he can't bear to see the least living thing hurt. And when
he loves, it is well. Robert says I must finish, so here ends dearest
Sarianna's

Ever affectionate sister
BA.

END OF THE FIRST VOLUME SMITH, ELDER, & CO.'S NEW BOOKS.

* * * * *

=DEEDS THAT WON THE EMPIRE.= By the Rev. W.H. FITCHET