One morning in April I had a letter, a very cheerful one, from Everard Primrose, to say that he expected to be back in April, as he was very seedy; and that he would come and stay with us for a fortnight _en route_ home. I was just preparing his room, and looking round to see if I could do anything to make it prettier, when a telegram was put into my hand announcing his death. Richard and I were both terribly cut up, and we did not go for a very long time to Vienna, for we had lost our best friend there, and it would have made it too melancholy. On the 9th of May he rejoices that Mr. Gerald Fitzgerald, Director of Public Accounts in Egypt, is made a K.C.M.G., as "he married the elder daughter of our dear friend Lord Houghton," adding, "Dear old fellow, how pleased he will be!" On the 11th of May he mourns Douglas Jerrold, and was touched at the account of Mr. Fred Fargus's death, better known as Hugh Conway. This summer the English opened a lawn-tennis club, which was very amusing. Our Consular chaplain played lawn tennis like a boy of twenty. [Sidenote: _Leave to England_.] Richard having obtained "leave" (after a second attack of gout), and as I was the proud possessor of £500, we started gaily for London on the 19th of May, and went on board the _Tarifa_ for Venice; it was a Cunarder. Here we saw a great number of friends, and met Lord Lytton at Lady Layard's. We were neither of us well, in different ways, and Richard was ordered to go by sea, and I by land; so, after a couple of days at Venice, I saw Richard off in the _Tarifa_ for Liverpool, and I prepared to come over the Mont Cenis to London; but when I got back to the hotel, I found a telegram from a man I knew, one of what Richard used laughingly to call "my wife's pious pals," who said, "If you want to see a girl exorcised of the devil, come at once to Bologna." I went down to the station, only instead of taking my ticket for London, I, naturally, wild with curiosity, and knowing I had plenty of time, took it at once for Bologna.