It was still raining when we came out so we thought we wouldn't attempt any more sight-seeing, and walked up to the Galleria Vittorio Emanuele where we were under cover. The Cathedral looked splendid--all the white pinnacles and statues standing out from the dark grey sky. We looked in at all the shop windows, but didn't see anything particularly striking or local except the black lace veils which so many women (not the upper classes) wear here. Madame Hubert being young and pretty was most anxious to adopt that fashion--thought it would be more suitable for Madame as all the suivantes here wore the veil--she would be less remarked going about with Madame--but Madame decidedly preferred the plain little black bonnet of the Parisian femme de chambre. It seems there is a swell Italian woman in the hotel--a Princess--whose maid always wears a veil when she accompanies her mistress in her walks abroad. I was decidedly damp when I got back to the hotel. I breakfasted alone at my little table, and in fact was almost alone in the dining-room--there were only two other tables occupied. The head waiter was very sympathetic about the weather--they always had sun in Milan, just a mauvaise chance to-day. I had the reading-room also to myself, and found plenty of papers in all languages. I have rather a weakness for the "Kölnische Zeitung" (Gazette de Cologne). It is very anti-French, or I might really say anti-everything, as it is always pitching into somebody, but there is a good deal of general information in it. W. came in about 3.30, having worked steadily since 9. It was getting too dark to see much more and his attendant beamed when he saw him putting up his papers and preparing to leave. He says the man is bored to death--wants to talk at first and explain things to him, but he soon realizes that W. is bent on serious work, so he desists and reads a paper and walks about the room and fidgets generally.