He
recommended some waters, which Maironi will certainly not take. I feel I
know him well enough to be sure of that. However, during the last week
he has improved rapidly. In the morning and evening he works a little in
the kitchen-garden. This morning he rose very early, and what should he
do but take it into his head to wash down the stairs! Yesterday Maria
scolded the old servant because the stairs were not clean. When the
old woman, who sleeps at Subiaco, arrived at seven o'clock, she found
Maironi had done the work for her. My sister and my brother-in-law
reproached him; Giovanni was almost severe, perhaps because he is so
different from Maironi, and would never think of touching a broom, even
if he lived in a cloud of cobwebs! What does Maironi read? He has never
but once spoken to me of what he reads, and then only for a moment, as I
shall tell you later. I wrote you that perhaps he would spend the
summer with us, for I know Maria and Giovanni wish it. I now have a
presentiment that he will not stay, but will go to Rome. This, however,
is only my impression; I have no positive knowledge.
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