French troops were now in Rome; their purpose was somewhat ambiguous; but Pen had fraternised with the officers on the Pincio, had learnedly discussed Chopin and Stephen Heller with them, had been assured that they did not mean to fight for the Holy Father, and had invited "ever so many of them" to come and see mamma--an invitation which they were too discreet to accept.

Mrs Browning's excitement about public affairs had somewhat abated; yet she watched with deep interest the earlier stages of the great struggle in America; and she did not falter in her hopes for Italy; by intrigues and smuggling the newspapers which she wished to see were obtained through the courteous French generals.

But her spirits were languid; "I gather myself up by fits and starts," she confesses, "and then fall back." Apart from his anxieties for his wife's health and the unfailing pleasure in his boy, whom a French or Italian abbe now instructed, Browning was wholly absorbed in one new interest.

He had long been an accomplished musician; in Paris he had devoted himself to drawing; now his passion was for modelling in clay, and the work proceeded under the direction and in the studio of his friend, the sculptor Story.

His previous studies in anatomy stood him in good stead; he made remarkable progress, and six hours a day passed as if in an enchantment.