_Rome,
October._
I beg to thank you, dear Miss Polly, for your gypsy fortune-telling
letter. Did the old gypsy mention by chance a blond Russian Prince? It
was most kind of you to think of me at all, so far away in hot Rome,
and indeed your letter brought a cool, refreshing air to temper the
_sirocco_ and hot sun here.
It has been a trying summer in Rome, and if it hadn’t been for some
happy excursions I have been able to make to Florence and Venice and
into the country and to the circus, I fear I should have found it
unbearable.
Pray forgive my thanking you for your long and very sensible letter
and for becoming almost confidential, and believe me, with my very
cordial regards to your aunt and brother, and my compliments, very
sincerely yours. _Why do you let the Prince join you in Paris, I’d
like to know?_
(Br-r-r-! Your letter made me shiver!)
* * * * *