I.
WOODBRIDGE. NOVr. 2/71.
DEAR MRS. KEMBLE,
Is it better not to write at all than only write to plead that one has
nothing to say? Yet I don't like to let the year get so close to an end
without reminding you of me, to whom you have been always so good in the
matter of replying to my letters, as in other ways.
If I can tell you nothing of myself: no Books read because of no Eyes to
read them: no travel from home because of my little Ship being vanished:
no friends seen, except Donne, who came here with Valentia for two
days--_you_ can fill a sheet like this, I know, with some account of
yourself and your Doings: and I shall be very glad to hear that all is
well with you. Donne said he believed you were in Ireland when he was
here; and he spoke of your being very well when he had last seen you;
also telling me he thought you were to stay in England this winter. By
the by, I also heard of Mrs. Wister being at Cambridge; not Donne told me
this, but Mr. Wright, the Bursar of Trinity: and every one who speaks of
her says she is a very delightful Lady. Donne himself seemed very well,
and in very good Spirits, in spite of all his domestic troubles. What
Courage, and Good Temper, and Self-sacrifice! Valentia (whom I had not
seen these dozen years) seemed a very sensible, unaffected Woman.
I would almost bet that you have not read my Namesake's Life of your
Namesakes, which I must borrow another pair of Eyes for one day. My Boy-
reader gave me a little taste of it from the Athenaeum; as also of Mr.
Harness' Memoirs, {6} which I must get at.
This is a sorry sight {7} of a Letter:--do not trouble yourself to write
a better--that you must, in spite of yourself--but write to me a little
about yourself; which is a matter of great Interest to yours always
E. F.G.
III.
[_Nov._ 1871.]
DEAR MRS. KEMBLE,
I ought to be much obliged to you for answering my last letter with an
uneasy hand, as you did. So I do thank you: and really wish that you
would not reply to this under any such pain: but how do I know but that
very pain will make you more determined to reply? I must only beg you
not to do so: and thus wash _my_ hands of any responsibilities in the
matter.
And what will you say when I tell you that I can hardly pity one who
suffers from Gout; though I would undoubtedly prefer that you should be
free from that, or any other ailment. But I have always heard that Gout
exempts one from many o
|