Penini has his pony here, and rides with his father. We have had the coolest summer I ever remember in Italy. I could have been very happy. But God, who 'tempers the wind,' finds it necessary for the welfare of some of us to temper the sunshine also....
As the very poorest proof of gratitude for your letter, Robert suggests that I should enclose this photograph of Penini and myself taken at Rome this last spring. You will like to have them, we fancy, but it is Robert's gift. I was half inclined last year to send you a photograph from Field Talfourd's picture of me,[91] but I shrank back, knowing that dear Mr. Martin would cry out at the flattery of it, which he well might do. But this photograph from nature can't be flattered, so I hazard it. You see the locks are dark still, not white, and the sun, in spite, has blackened the face to complete the harmony. Pen is very like, and very sweet we think.
Do, when you write, speak of yourself—yourselves. I hope you like the 'Mill on the Floss.'
Our love to dearest Mr. Martin and you.
Let me be as ever,
Your affectionate and grateful
Ba.
Villa Alberti, Siena, Sardegna: August 25, [1860].