CCXXII. TO GUSTAVE FLAUBERT
Nohant, 14 April, 1872
My daughter-in-law has been staying several days with our friends,
at Nimes, to stop a bad case of WHOOPING-COUGH that Gabrielle was
suffering with, to separate her from Aurore, from fear of contagion,
and to recuperate, for she has not been well for some time. As for
me, I am well again. That little illness and this departure suddenly
resolved upon and accomplished, have upset my plans somewhat. I had
to look after Aurore so that she might be reconciled to it, and I
have not had a moment to answer you. I am wondering too if you don't
like it better to be left to yourself these first few days. But I
beguile the need I feel of being near you at this sad time, by
telling you over and over again, my poor, dear friend, how much I
love you. Perhaps, too, your family has taken you to Rouen or to
Dieppe, so as not to let you go back at once into that sad house. I
don't know anything about your plans, in case those which you made
to absorb yourself in work are changed. If you have any inclination
to travel, and the sinews of war are lacking, I have ready for you a
few sous that I have just earned, and I put them at your disposal.
Don't feel constrained with me any more than I would with you, dear
child. They are going to pay me for my novel in five or six days at
the office of le Temps; you need only to write me a line and I shall
see that you get it in Paris. A word when you can, I embrace you,
and so does Maurice, very tenderly.
CCXXIII. TO GEORGE SAND
Tuesday, 16 April, 1872
Dear good master,
I should have answered at once your first, very kind letter. But I
was too sad. I lacked physical strength.
At last, today, I am beginning to hear the birds singing and to see
the leaves growing green. The sun irritates me no longer, which is a
good sign. If I could feel like working again I should be all right.
Your second letter (that of yesterday) moved me to tears! You are so
good! What a splendid creature you are! I do not need money now,
thank you. But if I did need any, I should certainly ask you for it.
My mother has left Croisset to Caroline with the condition that I
should keep my apartments there. So, until the estate is completely
settled, I stay here. Before deciding on the future, I must know
what I have to live on, after that we shall see.
Shall I have the strength to live absolutely alone in solitude? I
doubt it, I am growing old. Caroline cannot live here now. She has
two dwellings already, and the house at Croisset is expensive. I
think I shall give up my Paris lodging. Nothing calls me to Paris
any longer. All my friends are dead, and the last one, poor Theo, is
not for long, I fear. Ah! it is hard to grow a new skin at fifty
years of age!
I realized, during the last two weeks, that my poor dear, good
mother was the being that I have loved the most! It is as if someone
had torn out a part of my vitals.
CCXXIV. TO GUSTAVE FLAUBERT
Nohant, 28 April, 1872
I hold my poor Aurore, who has a terrible case of whooping-cough,
day and night in my arms. I have an important piece of work that I
must finish, and which I shall finish in spite of everything. If I
have not already done the article on Bouilhet, rest assured it is
because it is IMPOSSIBLE. I shall do it at the same time as that on
l'Annee terrible. I shall go to Paris between the 20th and 25th of
May, at the latest. Perhaps sooner, if Maurice takes Aurore to Nimes
where Lina and the littlest one are. I shall write to you, you must
come to see me in Paris, or I will go to see you.
I thirst too to embrace you, to console you--no, but to tell you
that your sorrows are mine. Good-bye till then, a line to tell me if
your affairs are getting settled, and if you are coming out on top.