3121. EBB to Henrietta Cook
As published in The Brownings’ Correspondence, 18, 226–228.
[London]
saturday [Postmark: 25 September 1852]
One word to my beloved Henrietta, while I wait for Arabel who is coming to take me to dine at luncheontime in Wimpole Street for this fourth day. Surely, if I had a touch of human pride in me it would not be. You & Surtees look at one another & open your eyes. For my own part, I do really, sometimes, wonder how I bear to do it—but then I go again, just as if I did’nt wonder at all.– Horribly frightened, too, I get about six oclock—and two days ago I all but met Papa who was coming up Wimpole street as we were walking down, & only had time to turn abruptly round Hodgson’s corner. Peninni is frightened besides, seeing me so. His idea is that a “Mitaine” inhabits the house & comes out about dusk. He was trembling all over yesterday evening while Arabel tied on his hat. Minny is very angry with me for “letting the child frighten himself about such nonsense.” But I say .. Better that he should be afraid of the “mitaine” than of the truth as it stands.
“Mitaine,” you comprehend, is a French hobgoblin, into the mystery of which he was instructed by Desirée.
So this is my answer to your enquiries about my Wimpole street proceedings.
Dear Minny has been very unwell, I guess to day, confined to her bed, with medical visits twice a day—but now she is very much better, & Arabel & I are quite easy about her. It was a sort [of] rheumatic fever attack, the leg swelling frightfully. You need not be anxious. She is convalescent.
Henrietta, we are going to Rome. The decision against it had been taken, when, behold!, that dear generous friend Mr Kenyon, writes to me to insist that we should receive a hundred pounds from him for that specific purpose. What was to be said? We were obliged to him for ever as it was [1] —& the bond could not be closer. We accepted therefore, & we go to Rome. We shall remain a week or two in Paris to see Mr Browning & Sarianna settled there comfortably, & then we get on to Florence .. remain for a time .. & so, advance to Rome. In the spring, we hope to see Naples– Is not God good to us? We are spoiled, it seems to me, like petted children,—all our fancies permitted to sprout & blossom– The Brownings being in Paris, we shall be forced to come back next year, observe– They are proofs to you that we shall.
Wilson has returned, much to my joy. But Peninni has been a darling to me after all, and I miss something in the beloved little arms which clasped me round the neck in the morning at six, while the voice said “De-ar Ba”! He is wonderfully improved in talking English, and since Wilson went away, has learnt so many “poems” (eight or nine) that she was half frightened—she never likes his learning anything for fear of over-excitement. Only, the rosy cheeks reassured her. The child is in full health & enormous spirits. George wanted to know the other day if he ever cried—it seemed out of his nature. When I call him too good, I mean that his sweetness of temper & disposition are almost unnatural. Then, he amuses himself for hours together with his pencil & paints,—and at his age—think!– Arabel told him yesterday that he was to go to Wimpole street directly, as she had provided a rabbit for his dinner. “No–” said he .. “Peninni no want eat labbit, poor sing!” (poor thing!) Observe how he can put English words together. He talks almost wholly English at Wimpole street, & all my brothers are very kind & apparently rather fond of him.
The house at Bayswater is off our hands—let—fixtures bought, furniture disposed of also. Robert has been engaged there for every day this week, which accounts for my going to Wimpole street so much. I was & am alone. This evening will finish all—& Sarianna returns with him to occupy a bedroom in this house & stay with us till we all go away together. And we shall go in a week or ten days—we must. The weather is foggy & miserable, & it will be dangerous to stay on much longer. Except for Arabel, I would gladly, gladly be gone—my poor, darling Arabel!–
Dearest dear Henrietta, every post thrills me with expectation to hear the great news! You may probably go on a week longer,—who knows?—but I do hope I shall be in joy about you before I go. God grant it– Two other caps are on the way to you– In time, this sublime work of caps will be consummated.
Alfred is in good spirits—but that means nothing good, I fear. He bears these things lightly. [2] I want to persuade Arabel to go to her homœopath, because of her legs swelling—she certainly wants some care just now—though looking well & in good spirits. But there must be something wrong where the extremities swell so. We were all at Trippy’s last thursday, & had a magnificent fête.
I heard the other day that Tennyson was anxious about our attending the christening of his child—therefore, we may stay a few days longer for that, as it would gratify us both to do it, supposing any possibility. But there was a fog yesterday you could not see through—& even today, there is some fog. I doubted whether I could dare go to Wimpole street, but the day grew brighter as it advanced.
Just here, came in Father Prout– Oh—such haste I am in, for now Arabel waits for me.
God bless & keep you. I wish I sate by your sofa—dearest!
Your ever attached Ba
Address: Mrs Surtees Cook. / Wilton / Taunton / Somersetshire.
Publication: Huxley, pp. 168–170 (in part).
Manuscript: British Library.
1. John Kenyon had been providing the Brownings £100 a year (see letter 2905, note 3).
2. Alfred was running up debts, and the situation worsened over the next two years. In a July 1854 letter to Henrietta, EBB thought that “bankruptcy court” for Alfred would be “wise as well as right” (ms at Camellia).
___________________
