June 12 Sunday – At the Villa Reale di Quarto near Florence Sam wrote to William Dean Howells.
We have to sit & hold our hands & wait—in the silence & solitude of this prodigious house; wait until June 25, then we go to Naples & sail in the Prince Oscar the 28th. There is a ship 12 days earlier (but we came in that one.) I see Clara twice a day—morning & evening greeting—nothing more is allowed. She keeps her bed, & says nothing. She has not cried yet. I wish she could cry. Our old Katy stays near by, in the days, and Miss Lyon (secretary) sleeps in the room with her, nights. It would break Livy’s heart to see Clara. We excuse ourselves from all the friends that call—though of course only intimates come. Intimates—but they are not the old old friends, the friends of the old old times when we laughed. Shall we ever laugh again? If I could only see a dog that I knew in the old times! & could put my arms around his neck & tell him everything, & ease my heart.
Think—in 3 hours it will be a week!—& soon a month; & by & by a year. How fast our dead fly from us.
She loved you so, & was always as pleased as a child with any notice you took of her.
Soon your wife will be with you, oh fortunate man! And John, whom mine was so fond of. The sight of him was such a delight to her. Lord, the old friends, how dear they are.
It was too pitiful, these late weeks, to see the haunting fear in her eyes, fixed wistfully upon mine, & hear her say, as pleading for denial & heartening, “You don’t think I am going to die, do you? oh, I don’t want to die.” For she loved her life, & so wanted to keep it / SLC [MTHL 2: 787-8].
Sam gave his autograph to an unidentified person [MTP]. Note: given the recent tragedy of Livy’s death, it’s likely this autograph would have been to someone within the household staff or a neighbor.