He has copied already two busts, the Young Augustus and the Psyche, and is engaged on another, enchanted with his new trade, working six hours a day.

In the evening he generally goes out as a bachelor--free from responsibility of crinoline--while I go early to bed, too happy to have him a little amused.

In Florence he never goes anywhere, you know; even here this winter he has had too much gloom about him by far.

But he looks entirely well--as does Penini.

I am weak and languid.