Life at Rome. 277 



something may have transpired at the British Asso- 

 ciation 



Your affectionate mother, 



MARY SOMEKVILLE. 



MES. SOMEEYILLE TO W. GREIG, ESQ. 



BOMB, May IWi, 1845. 

 MY DEAR WORONZOW, 



I don't know why I have so long delayed writing 

 to you. I rather think it is because we have been living 

 so quiet a life, one day so precisely similar to the pre- 

 ceding, that there has been nothing worth writing about. 

 This is our first really summer-like day, and splendid it is ; 

 but we are sitting in a kind of twilight. The only means 

 of keeping the rooms cool is by keeping the house dark 

 and shutting out the external air, and then in the evening 

 we have a delightful walk ; the country is splendid, the 

 Campagna one sheet of deep verdure and flowers of every 

 kind in abundance. We generally have six or seven large 

 nosegays in the room ; we have only to go to some of the 

 neighbouring villas and gather them. Most of the 

 English are gone ; people make a great mistake in not 

 remaining during the hot weather, this is the time for en- 

 joyment. We are busy all the morning, and in the after- 

 noon we take our book or drawing materials and sit on 

 the grass in some of the lovely villas for hours ; then we 

 come home to tea, and are glad to see anyone who will 

 come in for an hour or two. We have had a son ot 

 Mr. Babbage here. He is employed in making the 

 railway that is to go from Genoa to Milan, and he was 

 travelling with eight other Englishmen who came to make 



