Sunday March 28th/69
Venice
My dear Papa,
I was glad to get your letter from Cotehele last night, as we were afraid, from your not having mentioned it again, that you had given up your intention of going there. It is an immense time since any of us have herd <sic> any direct communication either from Aunt Caroline or from Ernestine, so that all you tell us about them is news – and one piece of that news souned <sic> rather strange – that they are going to keep house with Mr Gaisford during their stay in London: do you think it is likely to answer? I suppose Tilly has written to you by this time. She seems to have enjoyed her week’s stay in Edinburgh very much, and to have benefitted from it. Mama believes she never thanked you for Charlie Edgcumbe’s second letter. It was very interesting: he writes and describes remarkably well, and seems to know how to enjoy what he sees. I wish Charles could imitate him in that particular. Ela also has had a letter from you since last wrote, and thanks you for it. I am sorry to say our weather continues as changeable and unsatisfactory as ever, and you seem now to be no better off. These last three days have been very cold, and today it is pouring. People just come from Florence say it is very bad there, and the quays of the Arno have been under water. There is much snow in the Apennines, and even in some places in the Neapolitan provinces; but I suppose all this must come to an end very soon now.
Did you get in the Times the account of Major Arbuthnot’s accident in India, during a Panther hunt? He was very much better, and when his parents here received the news they were much alarmed, and so was his young wife who returned from India with three little children a short time ago and was waiting here for his arrival to escort her back to England. When the following mail arrived they were still more uneasy at getting no letter from him; but in the course of the day they received a telegram saying he was arrived at Alexandria and would be here in a few days – And so he did – coming by steamer from Alexandria direct; and they say that hardly a trace of his wounds remains to show what a narrow escape he has had.
I will say goodbye now, dear Papa, as it is dinner time; and if I think of any thing else to add afterwards I will do so, but I am afraid we have but little news.
Everybody sends their love.
Your affectionate daughter
Rosamond