Autograph letter signed : London, to Dr. Baldwin, 1893 Nov. 10.

Replying to his letter; "Your very charming letter deserved a more immediate answer. But one can only propose : the big interfering London inevitably disposes. It is delightful to hear from you - as delightful as it can be with the intense drawback of being made miserably homesick for Italy. The mere sight of poor Umberto's big mustachios on the francobollo gives me a 'turn' as the old women say. And I live in a monotony of hope deferred & of air castles that never descend to earth. This is particularly tormenting when you write with such a suggestion of low spirits & secret sorrows. I would try to pour balm on these last if you would let me approach them - but you don't. You tell me that you had news from America last summer of a great trouble - but you give me no glimpse of what it is, & my imagination ever can only work darkly - or unhelpfully. But I hope the mild Tuscan autumn has laid a soothing, smoothing, simplifying hand on your complications. Also that you now have the [illegible] of occupation, without having the poison of an excess of it. Very strange & romantic is the picture of your wonderful Italian summer - the high and admirable Appenines & your studies in peasantry, misery & witchery. What a grand blessing you must have been! It is all most interesting - so that I long to hear you talk about it. I shall, with heaven's help, later in the winter. Your great strength is a figure straight out of some grim mediaeval legend. What treasures of strangerness - what depths of history - and what abysses of sadness in that unspeakable old Italy. I congratulate you on the interesting work you found & on the alleviation you so widely scattered. I have, thank heavens, for myself, very little personal history. I had, after June, a purely English & mainly an unsociable but preferable seaside summer - at places where there were plenty of people, but no one I knew. I have been back in town since October 1st; & must stick fast till the New Year. I languish for Italy - & shall accomplish it in the spring; or the winter's end; but not, I fear, before. Then I shall go & look at Miss Woolson in Venice & at you in Florence. The former loves her Venice, thank heaven - I mean thank heaven for her tranquillity [sic] there. But she is only provisionally settled, & that torments her. I trust more security will come. Forgive me if I am brief - for I am too pen-weary to write; & I was, physically never made for the pen. I am as awkward with it, if not as fatal as I should be with a lancet or fishing-rod. (I shouldn't be fatal with the latter.) I am touched, my dear Baldwin - very much touched - by the desire for communication that you express with me. Don't be afraid - we shall have plenty of it in the future. Italy is one of the definite needs of my [illegible] time & I shall put it on a proper basis. If I don't, life will be a failure, & I'm not prepared to admit that. Sidney Colvin asks after you longingly. He wants you. I saw that little monster of mediocrity Willard Fiske the other day & charged him with messages to you...Above all be well - & not too burdened nor too bothered."