, and she will. The consequence is I get
rushed through things I want to let soak into me, and have to go again.
My only way of getting her to rest has been by deserting her; and then I
come back and receive reproaches with a meek countenance.

Mr. C---- has been good to us and cordial, and brings his gondola often
to our service. A gondola and pair has quite a different motion from a
one-oared gondola; it is like riding a seahorse instead of a sea-camel--
almost exciting, only it is so soft in its prancings.

He took A. and myself into the procession which welcomed the crowned heads
last Wednesday; the hurly-burly of it was splendid. We tore down the Grand
Canal from end to end, almost cheek by jowl with the royalties; the M.-A.
was quite jubilant when she heard we had had such "good places." Hundreds
of gondolas swarmed round; many of them in the old Carpaccio rig-outs,
very gorgeous though a little tawdry when taken out of the canvas. Hut the
rush and the collisions, and the sound of many waters walloping under the
bellies of the gondolas, and the blows of fighting oars--regular
underwater wrestling matches--made it as vivid and amusing as a prolonged
Oxford and Cambridge boat-race in fancy costume. Our gondoliers streamed
with the exertion, and looked like men fighting a real battle, and yet
enjoyed it thoroughly. Violent altercations with police-boats don't ruffle
them at all; at one moment it looks daggers drawn; at the next it is
shrugs and smiles. Often, from not knowing enough of Italian and Italian
ways, I get hot all over when an ordinary discussion is going on, thinking
that blows are about to be exchanged. The Mother-Aunt had hung a wonderful
satin skirt out of window for decoration; and when she leaned over it in a
bodice of the same color, it looked as if she were sitting with her legs
out as well! I suppose it was this peculiar effect that, when the King and
Queen came by earlier in the morning, won for her a special bow and smile.

I must hurry or I shall miss the post that I wish to catch. There seems
little chance now of my getting you in Venice; but elsewhere perhaps you
will drop to me out of the clouds.

Your own and most loving.

LETTER XXXIX.

My Own, Own Beloved: Say that my being away does not seem too long? I have
not had a letter yet, and that makes me somehow not anxious but
compunctious; only writing to you of all I do helps to keep me in good
conscience. Not the other foot