PARIS, _February 3, 1843_.
Does not this lovely weather make you think of Versailles, and
consequently does it not make you wish to laugh? If you were the least
logical you would not laugh. I am sure you are aware that Versailles is
the capital of the Department of Seine-et-Oise, where there are officers
for the protection of the weak, and that French is spoken there. In such
a place you would be as safe as in Paris. Moreover, what you wish to do
is to walk without meeting any of your gossiping acquaintances. At
Versailles, on a day when the Museum is closed, you are sure of meeting
no one. I do not remind you of the air, or of the beauty of the grounds,
which have their own value, and which influence always the nature of
one’s thoughts.
I am confident, for instance, that at Versailles you would have had no
sign of that attack of temper of the other day. That you have now
recovered from it I am sure, for the closing words of your letter bore
the inspiration of your good genius. The beginning was suggested by
your evil genius. I write in great haste, for I am overwhelmed in
business matters, which are proving very tiresome. Think of me
sometimes, and do not be angry. Don’t laugh too much when you think of
me.