I can now ask for a bath in Italian, and order the necessary things for
myself in the hotel: also say "come in" and "thank you." But just the
few days of that very German table d'hôte at Lucerne, where I talked
gladly to polish myself up, have given my tongue a hybrid way of talking
without thinking: and I say "ja, ja," and "nein," and "der, die,
das," as often as not before such Italian nouns as I have yet captured.
To fall upon a chambermaid who knows French is like coming upon my
native tongue suddenly.
Give me good news of your foot and all that is above it: I am so doubtful
of its being really strong yet; and its willing spirits will overcome it
some day and do it an injury, and hurt my feelings dreadfully at the same
time.
Walk only on one leg whenever you think of me! I tell you truly I am
wonderfully little lonely: and yet my thoughts are constantly away with
you, wishing, wishing,--what no word on paper can ever carry to you. It
shall be at our next meeting!--All yours.