There is a note, written in a close and pretty writing, something
between Sir Walter Scott's and Mrs. Browning's, which the present
writer has possessed for years, fastened in a book among other early
treasures:--
Thank you, dearest Miss Priscilla, for your great kindness. I return the
ninth volume of [illegible], with the four succeeding ones, all that I
have; probably all that are yet published. You shall have the rest when
I get them. Tell dear Mr. George (I must not call him Vert-Vert) that I
have recollected the name of the author of the clever novel 'Le Rouge et
le Noir' (that is the right title of the book, which has nothing to do
with the name); the author's name is Stendhal, or so he calls himself. I
think that he was either a musician or a musical critic, and that he is
dead.... My visitor has not yet arrived (6 o'clock, p.m.), frightened
no doubt by the abruptness of the two notes which I wrote in reply to
hers yesterday morning; and indeed nobody could fancy the hurry in which
one is forced to write by this walking post....
Tell my visitors of yesterday with my kind love that they did me all the
good in the world, as indeed everybody of your house does.
--Ever, dear Miss Priscilla, very affectionately yours,