[Boston—Friday, 24 November 1865]
Nov. 24. Letters from our sister in Florence. Between the offer of marriage from England, her studio, and her desire of coming home the poor child is perplexed. How hard it is for women to work in this world, they are made to love, to sympathize, to console, to labor for others, but only when their lives are cast on desert sands do they attain pre-eminence in art. With all her talent with her hours of exile which have brought their fruit and given her a certain pre-eminence in Art, now comes this man who wishes her for himself—well, we shall see.
We walked to Roxbury in the gentle rainy atmosphere.