If we can go to Rome in any reasonable security, I suppose we shall go.

But I have no heart for plans just now.
Dear Isa Blagden is spending the summer in a rough _cabin_, a quarter of an hour's walk from here, and Mr.Landor is hard by in the lane.

This (with the Storys a mile off) makes a sort of colonisation of the country here.

Otherwise it's a solitude, 'very _triste_,' say the English, not even an English church, even in the city of Siena.

We get books from Florence, and newspapers from everywhere, or one couldn't get on quite well.