13 Dorset Street: Tuesday, [October 1855].

My dearest Mrs. Martin,--I can't go without writing to you, but I am
ground down with last things to do on last days, and it must be a word
only. Dearest friend, I have waited morning after morning for a clear
half-hour, because I didn't like to do your bidding and write briefly,
though now, after all, I am reduced to it. We leave England to-morrow,
and shall sleep (D.V.) at 102 _Rue de Grenelle, Faubourg St. Germain,
Paris_,--I am afraid in a scarcely convenient apartment, which a zealous
friend, in spite of our own expressed opinion, secured for us for the
term of six months, because of certain yellow satin furniture which only
she could consider 'worthy of us.' We shall probably have to dress on
the staircase, but what matter? There's the yellow satin to fall back
upon.

If the rooms are not tenable, we must underlet them, or try....

One of the pleasantest things which has happened to us here is the
coming down on us of the Laureate, who, being in London for three or
four days from the Isle of Wight, spent two of them with us, dined with
us, smoked with us, opened his heart to us (and the second bottle of
port), and ended by reading 'Maud' through from end to end, and going
away at half-past two in the morning. If I had had a heart to spare,
certainly he would have won mine. He is captivating with his frankness,
confidingness, and unexampled _naivete_! Think of his stopping in 'Maud'
every now and then--'There's a wonderful touch! That's very tender. How
beautiful that is!' Yes, and it _was_ wonderful, tender, beautiful, and
he read exquisitely in a voice like an organ, rather music than speech.

War, war! It is terrible certainly. But there are worse plagues, deeper
griefs, dreader wounds than the physical. What of the forty thousand
wretched women in this city? The silent writhing of them is to me more
appalling than the roar of the cannons. Then this war is _necessary_ on
our sides. Is _that_ wrong necessary? It is not so clear to me.

Can I write of such questions in the midst of packing?

May God bless you both! Write to me in Paris, and do come soon and find
us out.

Robert's love. My love to you both, dearest friends. May God bless you!
Your ever affectionate

BA.