_November, 1879._--We are again at our home in Zurich, 7 Centralhof. We are anxious for a long visit to Italy, and I have asked for a leave. Mr. Harte thinks to go along with us. “November 9, 1879. “MY DEAR MR. BYERS:--I have your welcome letter of the 7th, and hasten to say that two words by telegraph from Mr. Seward give me my leave of absence. With this in my pocket, I am in no hurry, knowing that I can rush off at any moment, when Crefeld becomes unbearable. When the Rhine fog gathers thickest, and the office lights are lit at 3 P. M. and neuralgia becomes lively, I clutch the telegram and smile a ghostly smile. “And we may meet, after all, where the sun shines. The doctor here tells me I must go to upper Italy, say Bellagio on the Lake of Como. But there is a time to think of that. Let me know _when_ you get your leave. You will get it _of course_. “My cousin had a dismal voyage home, tempestuous weather and seasickness nearly all the time. She writes rather sadly from New York, where she has found her brother-in-law hopelessly ill, and her sister in great distress. Her quiet life in Düsseldorf makes that busy city seem strange to her, and I hope when she gets to Washington she may shake off her sadness. I have written to her urging her, if she have the slightest feeling of ‘homesickness’ for Europe again, to start off with her sister Jessie and come back to me at once. I hope she certainly will in the spring, for it is terribly lonely here. “Tell Mrs. Byers to stop this shooting of Parthian arrows from Obstalden. I am not so very particular, but if we travel in Italy together, we must certainly have more than _one_ bedroom for us _three_. I know I am fastidious as to location, but I’d let that go. I’d stick out for _two_ bedrooms, if we had to telegraph a week ahead. If Mrs. Byers and myself are to quarrel in this way we must all have separate apartments, and two wash bowls. “I forgot to ask you to procure me a book of Swiss photographic views for about eight or ten francs. It is for a child’s present and I leave the selection entirely to yourself. Will you charge your soul with it, and credit me with the enclosed. “Yours ever, B. H.” And later he writes: “November 23, 1879. “MY DEAR MR. BYERS:--A line to thank you for the album. It was a great bargain at 10 R. M. And yet people talk of the impractical, unbusiness-like character of the literary mind. “I am still here, but knowing that I can go when I can stand things no longer, I put up with an india-ink washed sky, a dismal twilight that lasts eight hours, and stands for ‘day’ to the Rhenish perception, and find some work. I have just ‘turned off’ a story longer than the ‘Twins,’ and did it in spite of neuralgia and _’extension_.’