'. . . I am beginning to be anxious about 'Colombe's Birthday'. I care much more about it than Robert does. He says that no one will mistake it for his speculation; it's Mr. Buckstone's affair altogether. True--but I should like it to succeed, being Robert's play, notwithstanding. But the play is subtle and refined for pits and galleries. I am nervous about it. On the other hand, those theatrical people ought to know,--and what in the world made them select it, if it is not likely to answer their purpose? By the way, a dreadful rumour reaches us of its having been "prepared for the stage by the author." Don't believe a word of it. Robert just said "yes" when they wrote to ask him, and not a line of communication has passed since. He has prepared nothing at all, suggested nothing, modified nothing. He referred them to his new edition, and that was the whole. . . .' She communicates the result in May: '. . . Yes, Robert's play succeeded, but there could be no "run" for a play of that kind. It was a "succes d'estime" and something more, which is surprising perhaps, considering the miserable acting of the men. Miss Faucit was alone in doing us justice. . . .' Mrs. Browning did see 'Miss Faucit' on her next visit to England. She agreeably surprised that lady by presenting herself alone, one morning, at her house, and remaining with her for an hour and a half. The only person who had 'done justice' to 'Colombe' besides contributing to whatever success her husband's earlier plays had obtained, was much more than 'a great actress' to Mrs. Browning's mind; and we may imagine it would have gone hard with her before she renounced the pleasure of making her acquaintance. Two letters, dated from the Baths of Lucca, July 15 and August 20, '53, tell how and where the ensuing summer was passed, besides introducing us, for the first time, to Mr. and Mrs. William Story, between whose family and that of Mr. Browning so friendly an intimacy was ever afterwards to subsist. July 15. '. . . We have taken a villa at the Baths of Lucca after a little holy fear of the company there--but the scenery, and the coolness, and convenience altogether prevail, and we have taken our villa for three months or rather more, and go to it next week with a stiff resolve of not calling nor being called upon. You remember perhaps that we were there four years ago just after the birth of our child. The mountains are wonderful in beauty, and we mean to buy our holiday by doing some work. 'Oh yes! I confess to loving Florence, and to having associated with it the idea of home. . . .' Casa Tolomei, Alta Villa, Bagni di Lucca: Aug. 20.