I started out again about 3--in a carriage this time--and went to get W.--extract him from his coins if I could. There was no one, apparently, in the Museum, but a smiling concierge took me to the antiquity and coin rooms where I found W. very busy and happy; quite insensible to rain or any outside considerations. He said the light wasn't very good. A musty old savant with a long ragged beard and very bright black eyes was keeping him company. _He_ was delighted to see me, for he knew that meant stopping work for that afternoon. I talked to him a little while W. was putting his papers in order, and it was evident he had never seen any one with such a capacity for steady work. He encouraged us very much to go and see something (anything that would take us out of the coin room) but we really didn't know what to do with ourselves--a country drive wasn't inviting and it was too dark and late for pictures--all the galleries close at 4. The padrone had recommended the flower show to us in the public gardens, so we thought we would try that. The flowers were all under glass and tents, so we were dry overhead, but the ground was wet and muddy--a general damp, chilly feeling everywhere. I am sure the place is lovely on a bright summer day. There are fine trees, splendid horse chestnuts, pretty paths and little bosquets. The poor flowers looked faded and drooping, even under cover. The roses were splendid--such enormous ones with quantities of leaves, very full. The finest were "Reine Marguerite," "Marguerite de Savoie," "Princess de Piémont." I asked one of the gardeners if the Queen was very fond of flowers--the "Marguerite de Savoie" was a beautiful white rose. "Oh, yes," he said, enthusiastically, "the Queen loves flowers and everything that is beautiful." I thought it such a pretty answer. He showed us, with great pride, a green rose. I can't say I admired it, but it is so difficult and so expensive to produce that I don't think we shall see many. We walked about and looked at all the flowers. Some of the variegated leaves were very handsome. There was a pink broad leaf with a dull green border and an impossible name I should have liked to take away, but the man said it was an extremely delicate plant raised under glass--wouldn't live long in a room (which was what I wanted it for). We thought we would go back and have tea in a new place under the arcades--in the Galleria. The tea was bad--had certainly never seen China--as grown, I daresay, in the rice fields near the city, so we declined that and ordered chocolate, which was very good, and panettoni. W. was rather glad to have something to eat after his early breakfast. It was pouring, but we were quite sheltered in the corner of the veranda; so he smoked and we looked at the people passing and sitting near us. They were certainly not a very distinguished collection--a good many officers (in uniform), loungers who might be anything--small