Did I tell you of the quail served with rice, which I ate at Milan? It was the most remarkable thing I discovered in that city, and is worth the journey. I return to this country with delight, after having visited so many others which are considered grander. The mountains of the Estérel impressed me as smaller than the Alps, but their outlines are as graceful as any that one can see. Enough said on the subject of my travels. What are your intentions for this autumn? Do you intend to bury yourself in your Dauphiny mountains? Where you are concerned, one never knows what to expect. You look one way and row another. Good-bye.... CLXXXIII PARIS, _October 21, 1858_. Here I am back in this city of Paris, where I am furious not to find you. It begins to be cold and dismal, and still no one has returned. I left Cannes in admirable weather, which became greyer and greyer with every step I took towards the North. Pity me! While in Venice I bought a chandelier, which arrived yesterday broken in three places. The Jew who sold it to me promised to make good any damage, but what power have I to compel him to do so? I have not yet become accustomed to sleeping in my own bed. I feel like a stranger here, and do not know what to do with my time. It would be altogether different if you were in Paris. I bought in Cannes that strange animal, the _prigadiou_, whose portrait I have made for you. It is still alive, but I fear that you will find it no longer in this world. It lives on flies, and flies are beginning to be scarce. I have still a dozen which I am fattening. My friends think I am thinner. It seems to me that my health is a trifle better than before I went away.... CLXXXIV PARIS, _Sunday night_, _November 15, 1858_. ... I go to-morrow morning to Compiègne, until the 19th. Write to me until the 18th at the château. I am far from well, and the life I am to lead for the next week will not improve my health. Certain corridors must be crossed with neck and shoulders uncovered, which insure to those who frequent them a fine cold. I can not say what will be the fate of those who have a cold already developed. Pardon this hideous hiatus. This morning I met Sandeau, in the excited condition of a man who has just made his first appearance in knee-breeches. He put to me a hundred questions of such simplicity that I was alarmed for him. There will be also a number of great men from Outre-Manche, who will, doubtless, contribute much to the animation and hilarity of the occasion. Good-bye. CLXXXV CHÂTEAU DE COMPIÈGNE, _Sunday, November 21, 1858_. Your letter drives me to despair....