of the poor children, and had brought little presents. Mary had brought an ivy root and fern roots, and clothes for the work class. Louisa had cut out and made entirely a lovely dress and jacket for Alice P., and had dressed some very pretty dolls, and brought some splendid flowers. Harriet had gathered blackberries and made them into jam. It is so nice that they remembered and cared for these things in their holidays.
20, Via dei Serragli, Florence,
October 10th, 1867.
To Emily.
Here I am safe and sound at last, and very cheery and bright. Dear Aunt Emily is so kind; and there is something genial and homelike about being here. The journey from Chambery was very interesting, the Mt. Cenis was so impressive; it was too dark for me really to see it, and perhaps I a good deal misunderstood the things I did see; but it was very quiet and awful and solemn, sitting up in the banquette, so wholly alone as I felt, in the near presence of the great peaks and gulfs and winds and snow; sometimes foaming streams glittered for a few minutes far below; sometimes a great cloud of mist came slowly down and wrapped us round; the horses were many of them grey, and looked very ghostly and unreal under the lamp-light; but their shadows looked like real black horses tearing along. Altogether, it was weird and wild, and I liked it. I had a very stupid companion; but happily he relapsed into perfect silence during the whole time. He was such a forlorn and stupid young Irishman whom I had picked up. He had been travelling with two companions, had got out of the train, and
