"Oh, for a horse with wings!" Mr Browning, who had praised her poems, must tell her their faults.

He must himself speak out in noble verse, not merely utter himself through the masks of _dramatis personae_.

Can she, as he alleges, really help him by her sympathy, by her counsel?
Let him put ceremony aside and treat her _en bon camerade_; he will find her "an honest man on the whole." She intends to set about knowing him as much as possible immediately.

What poets have been his literary sponsors?
Are not the critics wrong to deny contemporary genius?
What poems are those now in his portfolio?
Is not AEschylus the divinest of divine Greek spirits?
but how inadequately her correspondent has spoken of Dante! Shall they indeed--as he suggests--write something together?
And then--is he duly careful of his health, careful against overwork?
And is not gladness a duty?
to give back to the world the joy that God has given to his poet?
Though, indeed, to lean out of the window of this House of Life is for some the required, perhaps the happiest attitude.
And why--replies the second voice--lean out of the window?
His own foot is only on the stair.

Where are the faults of her poems, of which she had inquired?
Yes, he will speak out, and he is now planning such a poem as she demands.