candlestick

August 1857-June 1858


The Collected Letters, Volume 33


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TC TO JWC ; 7 September 1857; DOI: 10.1215/lt-18570907-TC-JWC-01; CL 33: 75


TC TO JWC

Chelsea, 7 Septr, 1857–

Only half a word today, my dear little Jeannie; lest there should not be time for writing again before you—come! I wish to Heaven we saw you here and safe! By Heaven's favour that will be,—day after tomorrow, if all hold good.

Your Friday Letter did not come till this morning:1 such irregularities are intolerable;—however, we are now near thro' it for the present. I tried to keep my imaginn quiet:—indeed I shd not have had much comfort there had I got the Letter. Poor little Life-Friendkin; sitting there awake to the finger-ends, studying railway-trains instead of sleeping, in the dead of night! Alas, I cannot help thee: I know that dismal mood of studying railways, in the best state one is in. Nevertheless pick up heart: it is not so bad as it looks, when actually going on;—and it lasts only for a day. Then there will be joy in Nero and the Canaries, and in creatures more important here; and there will be your own room, quiet house all clean, and my poor useless heart (true, whether you believe it as you should or not) for a place of shelter to poor Goodykin! That is fact, however the trains go; and you must look to that, and thole (dulden)2 by the road and before it.— — No Letter but the Friday one has come today (4½ p.m); but one still may: tonight or tomorrow I expect one with confidence; to say what train, and when and at what station I am to catch you up, and triumphantly carry you home again!

All is right enough here;—nothing gone awry, except my nerves from Lady S.'s dinner,—never been right since; and today I am to repeat the operatn. Fool that I am:—but it will be the last time; and I will take all care I can this time. I subdued my Proofs yesterday; a horrid job again; Chorley took me out an hour's walk; then a ride, then at night the Beauty: ‘returned from the seaside,’3 and as ugly as ever.

Today, and now, I am beneath the awning again: hot sun; but air coldish & brisk. In my last smoke, about midnight, I much admire the Harvest Moon these three last nights.— — I am to ride today; Ly S.'s groom to take my horse; home, too, at 9½ p.m thro' the Park:4—but lo, I am already too late, and must close witht another word! God keep thee, bring thee home safe to my poor old heavyladen heart again!— Ever

T.C.