scores of times, but what could I say to you that would interest you? I do not know how to write letters, I—if I had written to you as often as I thought of you, all the paper in Italy would not have sufficed for it."
"Very well; what have you been doing? How have you occupied yourself? I know already that it is not with letter-writing."
"Occupied! You know very well that I do not occupy myself, unfortunately. I have seen, I have strolled about. I had plans of painting, but the sight of so many beautiful pictures has effectually cured me of that useless passion. Ah!—and then old Nibby almost made an antiquarian of me. Yes, he persuaded me to order an excavation made. They found an old pipe, and I don't know how many bits of broken pottery. And then at Naples I took lessons in singing, but I am no more clever for it. I have"
"I do not much approve of your music, although you have a fine voice and you sing well. That puts you in touch with people whose society you are altogether too fond of."
"I understand you; but at Naples, when I was there at least, there was scarcely any danger. The prima donna weighed three hundred pounds and the second singer had a mouth like an oven.
