The Indianapolis journal. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1867-1904, 1885-03-01
wet English birds-nest will force you to realize
this truth with lamentable rapidity."

| Beds to Lady Gwendoline Dormer, British En-.
| bassy Vienna.
| Dearest Gwen--I did promise, know, to
| write to you Mt once, and tell you everything;
| and whole week is gone and couldn't do it,
! really couldn't; and even now don't know where
| to begin suppose am dreadfully vieux jeu
suppose you will only laugh at me and say
say word of English. and so 1 never
hear that dreadful jargon which l do
think so ugly and vulgar though
you are all so fond of it. | ought not to have
come to Coombe Bysset: at least they all said it
was silly Nesse Fitzgerald was back in Lon
don before the week was out, and doing play
| To be sure she was married in October, and she
/ didn't care a bit about him. and L suppose that
made ali the difference. To me it seems SO
| much more natural to shut oneself up and Piero
| thought so too; but am half afraid he finds 1t
| little dull now. You see we knew very little of
/ one another He came for month of the Lon
| don season, and he met me at Ranelagh, and he
| danced the cotllon with me at good many
| houses and we cared for one another in week,
| and were married in month, as you know.
Papa hated it. because it wasn't Burlington or
| Lord Hampshire. But he couldn't really object,
| because the San Zenone such a great Ro-
man family and all the world knows them;
and they are Spanish dukes well as Italian
| princes. And Piero is such grand gen
| tieman, and made quite superb settlements; much
more, papa said, than he could have ex-
pected, so poor as we are But what
| meant was, meeting like that in the rush OF the
season, at balls and dinners, and garden parties,
| and luncheonS at Hurlingham: and being mar
| ried to one another just before Ascot we really
| knew nothing at all of each others tastes, or
| habits or character And when. the first
! morning at Coolnbe. we realized that we were
| together for life, ] think both felt very odd.
| we adored one another but we didn't know
what to talk about; we never had talked to each
| other-wed never had time And | am afraid
there is something of this feeling with him. l
am afraid he is dreadfully bored, and told him
0nd hh aAvlfPa 1i,,n 0N-
mirable countrymen are not bored in the coun-
| try because they always eating They eat
a big breakfast, they eat a big luncheon, they
eat a big dinner they are always eating Myself,
have not that resource Give a little cot
| fee and little wine, and let me eat only once
day. You never told me / was expected to alb
| sorb food like the crocodiles What would he
| say IT he saw a hunting breakfast in the shiresl
! suppose life is very material in England. L
think it is why there is much typhus fever.
| Do you know, he wasn't going to dress for dinner
| because We were alone AS if that was any
| reason! l told him it would look odd to the
4 servants if he didn't dress, he has done so
| since But he said it was seccatura. This
| means, | believe, bore; and he told me we
English sacrificed our whole lives to fuss, form,
| and the outside of things. There is good deal
| OF truth in this. What numbers of people one
| knows who are ever so poor, and who yet, for the
sake OF the look of the thing, get into debt over
| their earsl And then quantities of them go to
| church for the form Of the thing. when they
| uoH uclleFe one atom; ana Iney Will tell you al
| luncheon that they don't l fancy Italians are
much more honest than are in this sort of
| way. Plero says if they are poor, they don't
| mind saying so, and if they have no religion they
don't pretend to have any. He declares we
English spoil all orr lives because we fancy it is
our duty to pretend to be something we are not.
| Now. isn't that really very true' l am sure you
would delight in all he says He is original. so
unconventional; our people think him ignorant.
| because he doesn't read, and doesn't care straw
| about politics. But assure you he is as clever
as anything can be; and he doesn't get his ideas
/ out OF newspapers; nor repeat like parrot
what his chief of party tells him. do wish you
could have come over and could have seen him.
1t was unkind of you to be i'll just at the very
time of my marriage You know that it is only
to you that ever say quite what l feel about
! things The girls are too young and mamma
| doesn't understand. She never could see why |
| would not marry poor Hampshire. She always
| said that should care for him in time. l don't
| think mamma can ever have been in love with
| anybody. wonder what she married for-don't
| you?"
From the Prince Piero di San Zenone Coombe Bysset,
to the Count Zazzar Italian Legation London.
Caro- Gigi-Pray send me all the French nov
els you can find, and case of Turkish cigarettes
! l am in paradise: but paradise is a little dull,
| and exceedingly damp. atleast in England Does
| it always rain in this country? 1t has rained
| here without stopping for seventeen days and
| half. ] produce upon myself the impression of
being one of those larks who sit behind wires on
! little square of wet grass. l should like to run
| up to London: see you have Jeanne Granier
and the others; but suppose it would be against
| all the unwrtten canons of a honeymoon. What
| a strange institution, a honeymoon! Who first
| invented it,"
From the Prince di San Zenone Coombe Bysset,
Beds. to the Duchessa dell Aquila Fulva Palazzo
Fulva Milano
Cara Teresina.-I ought to have written to
| you long SINCE but you know l am not fond of
writing. / really also have nothing to say.
| Happy the people who have no history. I am
! like that people. | was made happy two weeks
| ago: have been happy ever since. 1t is slightly
| monotonous. How can you vary happiness ex-
cept by quarrelng little9 And then it would
| not be happiness any longer 1t seems to me
| that happiness Is like au omclette, best i'm
| promptu. Do not think that | am ungrateful,
however either to fate or to the charming inno-
| cent who has become my companion. We have
not two ideas in common; she is lovely to look
at to caress, to ADORE but what to say TO her /
confess have no notion. Love ought never to
| have to find dinner-table conversation. He
ought to climb up by a ladder and get over a
balcony, and when his ecstacies are ended, he
ought to go the same way. l fancy she is
cleverer than l am, but as that would be
| discovery fatal to comfort, | en-
deavor not to make it. She is extra
ordinarily sweet-tempered; indeed, so much
so. that it makes me angry; it gives one no ex-
cuse for being impatient She is divine ex-
! quisite, nymph like; but, alas, she is prude!
| Never was any creature on earth so exquisitely
sensitive, so easily shocked To live with her is
to walk upon eggshells OF course, it is very
nice in wife; very proper as the English say;
but it is not amusing. 1t amused me at first,
but now 1T seems to me defect She has
| brought me down to this terribly damp and very
| green place. where it rains every day and night
There is library without novels; there is
cellar without absinthe; there is cuisine with
out tomatoes or garlic or any oil at all: there is
an admirably ordered establishment. so quiet
that fancy am in penitentlary. There are
some adoraby fine horses, and there are acres
of glass houses used to grow fruits that we throw
in Italy to the pigs By the way, there are also
several of our field flowers in the Conservatives
We eat pretty nearly all day; there is nothing
else to do. Outside, the scenery is oppressively
green, the green of spinach; there is no variety
| there are no ileXpS and there are no o1ivac r