te
nights with me, as if I had been their sister.

The winter was now fast approaching, and Somerville thought that in my
weak state a warm climate was necessary; so we arranged with our
friends, the Miss Barclays, to pass the Simplon together. We parted
company at Milan, but we renewed our friendship in London.

We went to Monza, and saw the iron crown; and there I found the Magnolia
grandiflora, which hitherto I had only known as a greenhouse plant,
rising almost into a forest tree.

At Venice we renewed our acquaintance with the Countess Albrizzi, who
received every evening. It was at these receptions that we saw Lord
Byron, but he would not make the acquaintance of any English people at
that time. When he came into the room I did not perceive his lameness,
and thought him strikingly like my brother Henry, who was remarkably
handsome. I said to Somerville, "Is Lord Byron like anyone you know?"
"Your brother Henry, decidedly." Lord Broughton, then Sir John Cam
Hobhouse, was also present.

At Florence, I was presented to the Countess of Albany, widow of Prince
Charles Edward Stuart the Pretender. She was then supposed to be married
to Alfieri the poet, and had a kind of state reception every evening. I
did not like her, and never went again. Her manner was proud and
insolent. "So you don't speak Italian; you must have had a very bad
education, for Miss Clephane Maclane there [who was close by] speaks
both French and Italian perfectly." So saying, she turned away, and
never addressed another word to me. That evening I recognised in
Countess Moretti my old friend Agnes Bonar. Moretti was of good family;
but, having been banished from home for political opinions, he taught
the guitar in London for bread, and an attachment was formed between him
and his pupil. After the murder of her parents, they were both
persecuted with the most unrelenting cruelty by her brother. They
escaped to Milan where they were married.

I was still a young woman; but I thought myself too old to learn to
speak a foreign language, consequently I did not try. I spoke French
badly; and now, after several years' residence in Italy, although I can
carry on a conversation fluently in Italian, I do not speak it well.

[When my mother first went abroad, she had no fluency in talking
French, although she was well acquainted with the literature. To
show how, at every period of her life, she missed no opportunity of
acquiring informat