Here, women have one, and are the soul of society. In Milan, also, I
see, in the Ambrosian Library, the bust of a female mathematician.
TO HER MOTHER.
_Lago di Garda, Aug_. 1, 1847.--Do not let what I have written disturb
you as to my health. I have rested now, and am as well as usual. This
advantage I derive from being alone, that, if I feel the need of it, I
can stop.
I left Venice four days ago; have seen well Vicenza, Verona, Mantua,
and am reposing, for two nights and a day, in this tranquil room which
overlooks the beautiful Lake of Garda. The air is sweet and pure, and
I hear no noise except the waves breaking on the shore.
I think of you a great deal, especially when there are flowers.
Florence was all flowers. I have many magnolias and jasmines. I always
wish you could see them. The other day, on the island of San Lazaro,
at the Armenian Convent, where Lord Byron used to go, I thought of
you, seeing the garden full of immense oleanders in full bloom. One
sees them everywhere at Venice.
TO HER TRAVELLING COMPANIONS AFTER PARTING.
_Milan, Aug_. 9, 1847.--I remained at Venice near a week after your
departure, to get strong and tranquil again.
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