October 18th, 1867.
Miranda to Octavia.
The houses in Freshwater Place seem getting into much better order now that Minnie is in town again. The P.'s are so energetic about the playground, so anxious to make it succeed. P. has been painting the swings (for which he would only take a trifle). He says a ground like that is a Godsend to the neighbourhood; and he proposes putting up a little direction board outside the court that people may find the way.… Minnie wants to know if she may admit P.'s children on Sunday. He longs so much for quiet to read his newspaper. I suppose the playground would be like a garden to the cottage.
Florence,
November 2nd, 1867.
To Emily.
The galleries were closed yesterday, as it was All Saints' Day; so I wanted to have a long bright day at Fiesole, or somewhere in the country, which is my great joy. But it was not to be; we did not get off till about three, and went to Certosa. Ask F. to tell you what a lovely place it is; and it looked so lovely in the autumn afternoon and evening light. A convent on a hill, the approach almost like that to a castle, so straight and steep, and bounded by such high walls. But the loveliest view was when we ascended a steep road to the south of it, and looked beyond it to the setting sun, the great couchant hills purple and grey beyond its own battlemented wall,—campanile, and cypresses all dark against the sky; but Florence and the mountains beyond Florence were bathed in rose mist. Gradually as the light left the valley it became pale misty blue, the
