The old Palazzo passed into other hands, and after a short period

of private ownership was consigned to the purposes of an Art Gallery.
In 1880, however, they had been introduced by Mrs. Story

to an American resident, Mrs. Arthur Bronson, and entered into
most friendly relations with her; and when, after a year's interval,

they were again contemplating an autumn in Venice, she placed
at their disposal a suite of rooms in the Palazzo Giustiniani Recanati,

which formed a supplement to her own house -- making the offer
with a kindly urgency which forbade all thought of declining it.

They inhabited these for a second time in 1885, keeping house for themselves
in the simple but comfortable foreign manner they both so well enjoyed,

only dining and spending the evening with their friend. But when, in 1888,
they were going, as they thought, to repeat the arrangement,

they found, to their surprise, a little apartment prepared for them
under Mrs. Bronson's own roof. This act of hospitality involved

a special kindness on her part, of which Mr. Browning only became aware
at the close of a prolonged stay; and a sense of increased gratitude

added itself to the affectionate regard with which his hostess
had already inspired both his sister and him. So far as he is concerned,

the fact need only be indicated. It is fully expressed
in the preface to `Asolando'.

During the first and fresher period of Mr. Browning's visits to Venice,
he found a passing attraction in its society. It held an historical element

which harmonized well with the decayed magnificence of the city,
its old-world repose, and the comparatively simple modes of intercourse

still prevailing there. Mrs. Bronson's `salon' was hospitably open
whenever her health allowed; but her natural refinement,

and the conservatism which so strongly marks the higher class of Americans,
preserved it from the heterogeneous character which Anglo-foreign sociability

so often assumes. Very interesting, even important names
lent their prestige to her circle; and those of Don Carlos and his family,

of Prince and Princess Iturbide, of Prince and Princess Metternich,
and of Princess Montenegro, were on the list of her `habitues',

and, in the case of the royal Spaniards, of her friends.
It need hardly be said that the great English poet,

with his fast spreading reputation and his infinite social charm,
was kindly welcomed and warmly appreciated amongst them.

English and American acquaintances also congregated in Venice,
or passed through it from London, Florence, and Rome.

Those resident in Italy could make their visits coincide
with those of Mr. Browning and his sister, or undertake the journey

for the sake of seeing them; while the outward conditions of life
were such as to render friendly intercourse more satisfactory,

and common social civilities less irksome than they could be at home.
Mr. Browning was, however, already too advanced in years,

too familiar with everything which the world can give, to be long affected
by the novelty of these experiences. It was inevitable that the need of rest,

though often for the moment forgotten, should assert itself more and more.
He gradually declined on the society of a small number

of resident or semi-resident friends; and, due exception being made
for the hospitalities of his temporary home, became indebted to the kindness

of Sir Henry and Lady Layard, of Mr. and Mrs. Curtis of Palazzo Barbaro,
and of Mr. and Mrs. Frederic Eden, for most of the social pleasure and comfort

of his later residences in Venice.
Part of a letter to Mrs. Fitz-Gerald gives an insight into

the character of his life there: all the stronger that it was written
under a temporarydepression which it partly serves to explain.

==
Albergo dell' Universo, Venezia, Italia: Sept. 24, '81.

`Dear Friend, -- On arriving here I found your letter
to my great satisfaction -- and yesterday brought the `Saturday Review' --

for which, many thanks.
`We left our strange but lovely place on the 18th, reaching Chambery

at evening, -- stayed the next day there, -- walking,
among other diversions to "Les Charmettes", the famous abode of Rousseau --

kept much as when he left it: I visited it with my wife perhaps
twenty-five years ago, and played so much of "Rousseau's Dream" as could

be effected on his antique harpsichord: this time I attempted the same feat,
but only two notes or thereabouts out of the octave would answer the touch.

Next morning we proceeded to Turin, and on Wednesday got here,
in the middle of the last night of the Congress Carnival --

rowing up the Canal to our Albergo through a dazzling blaze of lights
and throng of boats, -- there being, if we are told truly,

50,000 strangers in the city. Rooms had been secured for us, however:
and the festivities are at an end, to my great joy, -- for Venice is resuming

its old quiet aspect -- the only one I value at all. Our American friends
wanted to take us in their gondola to see the principal illuminations

AFTER the "Serenade", which was not over before midnight --
but I was contented with THAT -- being tired and indisposed for talking,

and, having seen and heard quite enough from our own balcony, went to bed:
S. having betaken her to her own room long before.

`Next day we took stock of our acquaintances, -- found that the Storys,
on whom we had counted for company, were at Vallombrosa, though the two sons

have a studio here -- other friends are in sufficient number however --
and last evening we began our visits by a very classical one --

to the Countess Mocenigo, in her palace which Byron occupied:
she is a charming widow since two years, -- young, pretty and of

the prettiest manners: she showed us all the rooms Byron had lived in, --
and I wrote my name in her album ON the desk himself wrote

the last canto of `Ch. Harold' and `Beppo' upon. There was a small party:
we were taken and introduced by the Layards who are kind as ever,

and I met old friends -- Lord Aberdare, Charles Bowen, and others.
While I write comes a deliciously fresh `bouquet' from Mrs. Bronson,

an American lady, -- in short we shall find a week or two amusing enough;
though -- where are the pinewoods, mountains and torrents, and wonderful air?

Venice is under a cloud, -- dull and threatening, --
though we were apprehensive of heat, arriving, as we did,

ten days earlier than last year. . . .'
==

The evening's programme was occasionallyvaried by a visit
to one of the theatres. The plays given were chiefly in the Venetian dialect,

and needed previous study for their enjoyment; but Mr. Browning assisted
at one musicalperformance which strongly appealed to his historical

and artistic sensibilities: that of the `Barbiere' of Paisiello
in the Rossini theatre and in the presence of Wagner,

which took place in the autumn of 1880.
Although the manner of his sojourn in the Italian city

placed all the resources of resident life at his command,
Mr. Browning never abjured the active habits of the English traveller.

He daily walked with his sister, as he did in the mountains,
for walking's sake, as well as for the delight of what

his expeditions showed him; and the facilities which they supplied
for this healthful pleasurable exercise were to his mind

one of the great merits of his autumn residences in Italy.
He explored Venice in all directions, and learned to know its many points

of beauty and interest, as those cannot who believe it is only to be seen
from a gondola; and when he had visited its every corner, he fell back

on a favourite stroll along the Riva to the public garden and back again;
never failing to leave the house at about the same hour of the day.

Later still, when a friend's gondola was always at hand,
and air and sunshine were the one thing needful, he would be carried

to the Lido, and take a long stretch on its farther shore.
The letter to Mrs. Fitz-Gerald, from which I have already quoted,

concludes with the account of a tragicoccurrence which took place
at Saint-Pierre just before his departure, and in which

Mr. Browning's intuitions had played a striking part.
==

`And what do you think befell us in this abode of peace and innocence?
Our journey was delayed for three hours in consequence of

the one mule of the village being requisitioned by the `Juge d'Instruction'
from Grenoble, come to enquire into a murder committed two days before.

My sister and I used once a day to walk for a couple of hours
up a mountain-road of the most lovely description, and stop at the summit

whence we looked down upon the minute hamlet of St.-Pierre d'Entremont, --
even more secluded than our own: then we got back to our own aforesaid.

And in this Paradisial place, they found, yesterday week,
a murdered man -- frightfully mutilated -- who had been caught apparently

in the act of stealing potatoes in a field: such a crime had never occurred
in the memory of the oldest of our folk. Who was the murderer is the mystery