LII. TO GUSTAVE FLAUBERT
Friday, 22 March, 1867
Your old troubadour is here, not so badly off. He will go to dine on
Monday at Magny's, we shall agree on a day for both of us to dine
with Maurice. He is at home at five o'clock but not before Monday.
He is running around!
He embraces you.
LIII. TO GUSTAVE FLAUBERT
1867 (?)
Then Wednesday, if you wish, my dear old fellow. Whom do you want to
have with us? Certainly, the dear Beuve if that is possible, and no
one if you like.
We embrace you.
G. S. Maurice Saturday evening.
LIV. TO GUSTAVE FLAUBERT
Nohant, 11 April, 1867
Here I am back again in my nest, and almost cured from a bad fever
which attacked me in Paris, the day before my departure.
Really your old troubadour has had ridiculous health for six months.
March and April have been such stupid months for him. It makes no
difference, however, for he is recovering again, and is seeing once
more the trees and the grass grow, it is always the same thing and
that is why it is beautiful and good. Maurice has been touched by
the friendship that you have shown him; you have seduced and
ravished him, and he is not demonstrative.
He and his wife,--who is not at all an ordinary woman,--desire
absolutely that you come to our house this year, I am charged to
tell you so very seriously and persistently if need be And is that
hateful grip gone? Maurice wanted to go to get news of you; but on
seeing me so prostrated by the fever, he thought of nothing except
packing me up and bringing me here like a parcel. I did nothing
except sleep from Paris to Nohant and I was revived on receiving the
kisses of Aurore who knows now how to give great kisses, laughing
wildly all the while; she finds that very funny.
And the novel? Does it go on its way the same in Paris as in
Croisset? It seems to me that everywhere you lead the same
hermitlike existence. When you have the time to think of friends,
remember your old comrade and send him two lines to tell him that
you are well and that you don't forget him.