Saturday Morning, Dec., 1860.
My dear Eliza: Your very modest little, “may I Mother?” leads me to an immediate reply. Yes, my dear child, come and welcome, just as often as you possibly can and never feel it necessary to ask if you may come home, for this you know is only another home. I am happy to enclose you a foreign letter bringing still further pleasant news. How much we have all to be thankful for that the travellers have so much enjoyment and so little interruption to it. Dear Mary finds, I dare say, comfort enough in the little new baby to compensate in a great measure for all the suffering consequent upon its arrival.
What do you think of Felice added to Una? Our opinions will be useless now, however, as before the last letters reach, the baptism will have been done. Did you see the paragraph stating that the continual assassinations in the streets of Rome render it unsafe to strangers and to residents after dark! This is very comforting to anxious families who have friends there! Hatty and Carry are certainly having a gay time at Naples. Just think of Vesuvius, a hurried dinner, rush to the Crocelli to meet a party of naval officers, a fourteen-oared boat excursion, dancing, and other festivities on board the Admiral’s ship-of-war, supper, etc., etc., all on one day! And after that the return civility of an egg nogg party! I am very glad they are under the care of a clergyman and his wife!
