... I shall go to Oxford for Commemoration, and stay a week for another affair,—a “gaudy” dinner given to the magnates of Eton.
To the forthcoming collection, entitled “Asolando,” the group of poems dedicated to Mrs. Bronson, the poet alludes as follows:
... By the way the new little book of poems that was to associate your name with mine, remains unprinted. For why? The publishers think its announcement might panic-strike the purchasers of the new edition, who have nearly enough of me for some time to come! Never mind. We shall have our innings.
Bless you ever and your Edith; keep me in mind as your very own always affectionate
R. B.
The poet’s love for Asolo is revealed in the following letter to Mrs. Bronson:
29, DeVere Gardens, W.
July 17,’89.
Dearest Friend,—I shall delight in fancying your life at Asolo, my very own of all Italian towns; your house built into the wall, and the neighboring castle ruins, and the wonderful outlook; on a clear day you can see much further than Venice. I mentioned some of the dear spots pointed out to my faith as ruins, while what wants no faith at all,—the green hills surrounding you, Posagno close by,—how you will enjoy it! And do go there and get all the good out of the beautiful place I used to dream about so often in old days, till at last I saw it again, and the dreams stopped,—to begin, again, I trust, with a figure there never associated with Asolo before. Shall I ever see you there in no dream? I cannot say; I feel inclined to leave England this next autumn that is so soon to overtake us....
Pen stays a few days longer in Paris to complete his picture. He had declined to compete at the Exposition, but has been awarded a Medal (3rd), which, however, enables him to dispense with the permission of the Salon that his works shall be received. Julian Story gets also a medal of the same class. Pen reports stupendously of the Paris show....
... Well, you know we have been entertaining and entertained by the Shah. I met him at Lord Roseberry’s, and before dinner was presented to him, when he asked me in French: “Êtes-vous poëte?” “On s’est permis de le dire quelquefois.” “Et vous avez fait des livres?” “Plusieurs livres?” “Trop de livres.” “Voulez-vous m’en faire le cadeau d’un de vos livres afin que je puisse me ressouvenir de vous?” “Avec plaisir.” Accordingly I went next day to a shop where they keep them ready bound, and chose a brightly covered “selection.”...