“A journey in an Italian June is a conscription; and if I was not the most constant of men, I should now be swimming from the Lido, instead of smoking in the dust of Padua. Should there be letters from England, let them wait my return. And do look at my house and (not lands, but) waters, and scold;—and deal out the monies to Edgecombe* with an air of reluctance and a shake of the head—and put queer questions to him—and turn up your nose when he answers.
“Make my respects to the Consuless—and to the Chevalier—and to Scotin—and to all the counts and countesses of our acquaintance.
