Paris, Sept. 28.
I have written to you three or four letters; but different causes have
prevented my sending them by the persons who promised to take or forward
them. The inclosed is one I wrote to go by B——; yet, finding that he
will not arrive, before I hope, and believe, you will have set out on
your return, I inclose it to you, and shall give it in charge to ——, as
Mr. —— is detained, to whom I also gave a letter.
I cannot help being anxious to hear from you; but I shall not harrass
you with accounts of inquietudes, or of cares that arise from peculiar
circumstances.—I have had so many little plagues here, that I have
almost lamented that I left H——. ——, who is at best a most helpless
creature, is now, on account of her pregnancy, more trouble than use to
me, so that I still continue to be almost a slave to the child.—She
indeed rewards me, for she is a sweet little creature; for, setting
aside a mother’s fondness (which, by the bye, is growing on me, her
little intelligent smiles sinking into my heart), she has an astonishing
degree of sensibility and observation. The other day by B——’s child, a
fine one, she looked like a little sprite.—She is all life and motion,
and her eyes are not the eyes of a fool—I will swear.
I slept at St. Germain’s, in the very room (if you have not forgot) in
which you pressed me very tenderly to your heart.—I did not forget to
fold my darling to mine, with sensations that are almost too sacred to
be alluded to.
Adieu, my love! Take care of yourself, if you wish to be the protector
of your child, and the comfort of her mother.
I have received, for you, letters from ——. I want to hear how that
affair finishes, though I do not know whether I have most contempt for
his folly or knavery.
Your own
* * * *