PARIS, _December 2, 1842_.
There is in some old Spanish romance a very pleasing tale. A barber had
his shop at the corner of the street, and the shop had two doors.
Through one of these doors he used to pass out into the street, stab a
passer-by, then hurrying into the shop, he went out the other door and
bandaged the wounds of his victim. _Gelehrten ist gut predigen._
I bear no grudge against your blue cashmere or your cakes; all such
things are perfectly natural. I even admire coquetry and greediness, but
only when one confesses them frankly. But you, who very justly aspire to
be something more than a mere woman of the world, why should you have
its defects? Why are you never frank with me? To give you an example of
frankness, will you, or will you not, come with me to the Museum next
Tuesday? If you are not willing, or if it will inconvenience or
embarrass you to come, you shall receive your Etruscan seal in a little
box Tuesday evening, and it will be delivered to you as naturally as
possible.
Your propensity for coquetry is very amusing. You chide me for being
indifferent, but if I were not so, or if I did not make a show of
indifference, you would drive me mad. Why does one carry an umbrella?
Because it rains.
Notwithstanding your wishes, Madame de M. will certainly come to Paris.
She has to purchase the trousseau of her daughter, who is to be married
in the spring. Unless an unforeseen revolution occurs, the said
trousseau will be made in Paris, and the marriage, also, may take place
here.
I am not acquainted with the future husband, but by means of intrigue I
had a hand in dismissing a former one whom I disliked, although an
exceptional man in many respects. In the first place, he was not tall
enough; besides, he has no less than five or six grandeeships
accumulated on one small body. This action is in itself a proof of my
amelioration. Formerly, it amused me to see others held up to ridicule,
but now I should like to have almost everyone shielded from derision. I
have also become more humane, and the last time I saw the bull-fights in
Madrid I felt none of the pleasure with which I was inspired ten years
ago by a similar exhibition. In fact, I have a dread of all kinds of
suffering, and for some time I have believed in mental suffering. In a
word, I endeavour as far as possible to forget the _ego_. This, in
brief, is the list of my perfections.
It is not through _vanagloria_ that I am ambitious to become an
Academician. One of these days I shall present myself for admission, but
I am sure to be black-balled. I hope I may have patience and persistence
sufficient to accept the disappointment and to persevere in my
endeavour. If the cholera breaks out again, I may perhaps succeed in
attaining a seat. No, I have not the least bit of _vanagloria_. I take
things too literally, perhaps, but I have been disillusioned of taking a
poetical view of life. However, you may be sure that you will never know
either all the good or all the ill in me. All my life I have been
praised for virtues that I do not possess, and slandered for faults
which are not mine. I imagine you at present as spending your evenings
with your two brothers. Good-bye.