31, Hertford St., _London_,
May 17th, Thursday [1859]
_Dearest_,
Una must be tired of the monotony of receiving letters from me; and
perhaps thou wilt be willing to relieve her, just for once. Her
letter, and Julian's, and Rosebud's, all three gave me great pleasure;
and I was particularly astonished at the old boy's learned epistle--so
learned, indeed, that it cost me some study to comprehend it. He is
certainly a promising lad, and I wish I could answer his letter in
Hebrew.
Affairs succeed each other so fast, that I have really forgotten what
I did yesterday. I remember seeing Henry Bright, and listening to a
stream of babble from his lips, as we strolled in the Park and along
the Strand. Today, I have breakfasted with Fields, and met, among
other people, Mr. Field Talfourd, who promises to send thee a
photograph of his portrait of Mr. Browning. He was very agreeable,
and seemed delighted to see me again. At lunch, we had Lady Dufferin,
Mrs. Norton, and Mrs. Sterling, author of the Cloister Life of Charles
V., with whom we are to dine on Sunday. Thou wouldst be stricken dumb
to see how quietly I accept a whole string of invitations, and, what
is more, perform my engagements without a murmur.
A little German artist has come to me with a letter of introduction,
and a request that I will sit to him for a portrait in bas-relief. To
this, likewise, I have consented!!!--Subject to the condition that I
shall have my leisure.
Mr. Fields has given me, for thee, The Idylls of the King--not the
American, but the English edition.
I have had time to see Bennoch only once. If I go to Canterbury at
all, it must be after my visit to Cambridge; and in that case, I shall
have to defer my return till the 31st of May. I cannot yet tell how it
will be.
The stir of this London life, somehow or other, has done me a
wonderful deal of good, and I feel better than for months past. This
is queer, for, if I had my choice, I should leave undone almost all
the things I do.
I have bought a large Alpaca umbrella, costing nine shillings.
Probably I shall mislay it before my return.
I trust thou dost not burthen thyself with cares. Do drive about, and
see Bath, and make thyself jolly with thy glass of wine.
Remembrances to Fanny, and love to great and small.
Thine,