_British Museum_ [_August_ 10_th_, 1886].
MY DEAR MOTHER,—We are having a capital holiday, and I am much better,
and enjoying myself to the nines. Richmond is painting my portrait.
To-day I lunch with him, and meet Burne-Jones; to-night Browning dines
with us. That sounds rather lofty work, does it not? His path was paved
with celebrities. To-morrow we leave for Paris, and next week, I
suppose, or the week after, come home. Address here, as we may not reach
Paris. I am really very well.—Ever your affectionate son,