not know. Taylor always seemed to me as ‘clever’ as any one: was always very civil to me: but one of those toward whom I felt no attraction. He was too clever, I think. As to Art, he knew nothing of it then, nor (as he admits) up to 1852 or thereabout, when he published his very good Memoir of Haydon. I think he was too ‘clever’ for Art also.
Why will you write of ‘If you bid me come to Lowestoft in October,’ etc., which, you must know, is just what I should not ask you to do: knowing that, after what you say, you would come, if asked, were—(a Bull begins here)—were it ever so unlikely for you. I am going thither next week, to hear much (I dare say) of a Brother in Ireland who may be called to India; and am
Ever yours sincerely,
Littlegrange.
Why won’t you write to me from Switzerland to say where a Letter may find you? If not, the Harvest Moon will pass!
LXXX.
Ivy House, Lowestoft:
Septr. 20, [194] [1880.]
My dear Mrs. Kemble,
Here is a second Full Moon since last I wrote—(Harvest Moon, I think). I knew not where to
direct to you before, and, as you remain determined not to apprize me yourself, so I have refused to send through Coutts. You do not lose much.
Here have been for nearly two months Five English Nieces clustered round a Sister who married an Italian, and has not been in England these dozen years. She has brought her Boy of six, who seems to us wonderfully clever as compared to English Children of his Age, but who, she tells us, is counted rather behind his Fellows in Italy. Our meeting has been what is called a ‘Success’—which will not be repeated, I think. She will go back to her adopted Country in about a month, I suppose. Do you know of any one likely to be going that way about that time?