_To the Viscountess Wolseley._
The reference in the following letter is to a visit paid by H. J.,
with Lady Wolseley, to the elaborately beautiful old house of the
late C. E. Kempe, the well-known artist of church-decoration, at
Lindfield, Sussex.
_Dictated._
34 De Vere Gardens, W.
8th March, 1897.
Dear Lady Wolseley,
I was so deprived, yesterday, for all those beautiful hours, of a word
with you away from our host that I felt as if I didn't say to you a
tenth of what I wanted; which, however, will make it all the better for
our next meeting--when I shall overflow like a river fed by melting
snows. Let these few words, therefore, not anticipate the deluge--let
them only express to you afresh my grateful sense of the interest and
success of our excursion. The whole wonder of it was the greater through
my wholly unprepared state, my antecedent inward blank--which blank is
now overscored with images and emotions as thick as any page of any of
your hospitable house-books ever was with visitors' names. The man
himself made the place more wonderful and the place the man. I was
greatly affected by his courtesy and charm; and I got afterwards, in the
evening, a little of the light that I couldn't snatch from you under his
nose. What struck me most about the whole thing was the consummate
cleverness: _that_ was the note it sounded for me more than any one of
the notes more imposing, more deep, that an artistic creation _may_
throw out. Don't for the world--and for my ruin--ever breathe to him I
have said it; but the whole thing, and his taste, are far too Germanic,
too Teutonic, a business to make a medium in which I could ever sink
down in final peace or take as the domestic and decorative last word.
The element of France and Italy are too much out of it--and they, to me,
are the real secret of Style. But we will talk of these things--heaven
speed the day. Do have a little of France and a great deal of Italy at
South Wraxall; but do have also a great deal of the cunning Kempe and of
the candid--too candid--companion of your pilgrimage. Don't imagine the
companion didn't have a most sweet and glorious day--from which the
light, even in London dusk again, has not yet wholly faded. I hope your
security was complete to the end, and I am, in earnest hope also of a
speedy reunion, yours, dear Lady Wolseley, more gratefully, if possible,
than ever,