Venice is such a place of dreams that I wake up each morning fearing it will have disappeared, and I will be left sinking into the sea in its wake. We arrived some days ago, at dusk, and my first sight of the Water City was as enchanting as in my imagination. Yet, after some time here, it is also strangely confining; in Venice one goes about everywhere by gondola, concealed by the cloth-lined shutter—forced to return to the sea. I will admit only to my dear aunt and uncle that I am lately feeling a little tired of life in Italy, for the society seems strangely unvaried, and the Venetians rather more distant than the inhabitants of Paris, by whom we were made welcome, indeed, particularly by the most gracious attentions of the Comte and his family.

Titian’s “Assumption” is as glorious as its many descriptions imply, and I believe I will visit the Tintoretti collection in The Accademia delle belle Arti again during the course of our stay here. Of course, St. Mark’s is splendid, and the beauties of the Doge’s Palace are incomparable. Rialto Bridge is full to capacity with little market stalls, and gondoliers enjoying the mid-afternoon sun from their seats on its steps. For art and beauty I want for nothing, but I miss the comforts of Paris, nonetheless, and I cannot help reflecting that no city in Italy compares with the many splendid diversions and comforts we enjoyed during our stay in France’s capital. I know I should not say so, but I cannot like Italy as much as perhaps I should, as it is so very dirty. Paris is not clean, but the dirt there is of a more modern character; the grime that covers everything in Venice is so ancient, that I am ashamed to say that I cannot venerate it for all its antiquity. It is also somewhat tiresome to be obliged to travel everywhere by boat. Elizabeth and I are more accustomed to walking, and I feel myself strangely fatigued through want of exercise. Paris, of course, is a lovely city for walking.

Please send our kindest regards to the Viscount, whom we look forward to seeing upon our return, to compare our experiences abroad with his. And if you should happen to see the Colonel, please let him know that we await his arrival with much expectation, for there can be nothing that compares with the pleasures of meeting old friends. We sincerely miss you all, and I remain,

Your fond niece,

GEORGIANA DARCY