'If it be possible
After much grief and pain.'
Peni would rather stay, I believe. His Florence is in his heart still.
Robert will have told you about his bust,[59] which is exquisite in the clay, and will be exhibited in London in the marble next May. The likeness, the poetry, the ideal grace and infantile reality are all there. I am so happy to have it. I set about teasing Robert till he gave it to me, and, as he really loses nothing thereby, I accepted at once, as you may suppose. I would rather have given up Rome and had the bust; but the artist was generous, and would only accept what would cover the expenses, twenty-five guineas. He said he 'would not otherwise do it for us, as he asked in the first place to be allowed to make the sketch in clay, and would not appear to have laid a trap for an order.' So we are all three very happy and grateful to one another—which is pleasant. I feel the most obliged perhaps of the three—obliged to the other two—and ought to be, after the napoleons dropt in Paris, Sarianna!
Oh no; the sea was necessary from Genoa. The expense of the journey would have been very much increased if we had taken the whole way by land, and it was a great thing to escape that rough Gulf of Lyons. The journey to Rome will be rendered easy to Robert's pocket by the extraordinary chance of Mr. Eckley's empty carriage, otherwise the repeated pulls might have pulled us down too low.
Peni will write to you. He loves his nonno and you very much—tell nonno; and my love goes with my message.
May God bless both of you! Love to M. Milsand.
Your affectionate
Ba.