daughter, is spending the winter here, gave
a little dance. Twelve struck in the middle of a quadrille, which
was accordingly interrupted by general shaking of hands among
chaperons, dancers, and all. There is a cordiality and ease in
society abroad, the charm of which goes far with me to make up for
the absence of some of the merits of society in England. The
subjects of conversation among men are queer, no doubt; but what
people have in them is much easier to get at--and to me it is a
relief not to hear all the ladies talking politics, or rather
talking political personalities, as they do in London.

_January_ 2.--I am afraid, after having been abused as
unworthy of Italy (not so much, however, by you as by Lotty and
Lizzy) you will now charge me with the far worse sin of being a bad
Briton--but _that,_ depend upon it, I am not, whatever
appearances may say--on the contrary, a better one than ever, only
grieving that with such materials as we have at home we do not
manage to make social life pleasanter.... Yesterday we had our
usual Thursday party; and before more than five or six had come, I
went into the girls' sitting-room, which opens out of the
drawing-room, and played reels while the girls and two young
Italians danced--but they had not danced long before our frisky
Papa followed with Count Ferretti, and not only joined in a reel,
but _asked_ for a waltz, and whirled round and round with
Georgy and then with me, and made the old Count do the same. It all
reminded me of our Berlin evenings, except that Papa, though
twenty-four years younger then, was not inspired by the German as
he is by the Italian atmosphere, and never, to my recollection,
joined us in our many merry unpremeditated dances. It was hardly
less a wonder to see Henry follow the example yesterday, and add to
the confusion of the most confused "Lancers" I ever saw danced....
It is impossible to say how this letter has been interrupted....
The weather being too bright and beautiful to allow us to spend the
morning indoors, the first interruption was a drive to San Miniato,
where there is one of the finest views of Florence, and since we
came home I have been jumping up every five minutes from my
writing-table to receive one visitor after another--whereas many an
afternoon passes without a single one--and sinc