3627. EBB to Henrietta Cook
As published in The Brownings’ Correspondence, 21, 262–263.
13. Dorset Street.
Thursday. [Postmark: 13 September 1855]
My ever beloved Henrietta, your letter comes & grieves me—& yet satisfies me– See how such a thing can be! In fact, I do approve altogether the conclusion you have come to, however I may & must suffer from it. I have felt afraid from the beginning .. afraid of the injury to you, afraid of the pain & responsibility on my own part. Really, there would have been a risk– I could’nt shut my eyes to it—to say nothing of the dull misery you would have suffered necessarily during the week’s pleasure we were giving ourselves the delusion of looking forward to. So you are quite right; quite right, dearest dear Henrietta– My house of cards is down with a breath—but the breath came in a word of perfect good sense. Also, one steady wide-awake joy remains to me from my dream—the proof of how much you were inclined to sacrifice to your love of me … & also the proof of dear Surtees’s kindness.
After thanking you both for this, where I can [sic, for can I] find breath for the rest of our gratitude for your generous goodness to us? Dear—I would shrink from no sort of obligation to you: I love you far too much for that. But the truth is there is no sort of need– Robert’s prudence is apt to take fright at the flies– He sees afar off what may be—how a black cloud comes up in the wind, & how if we lock up the umbrellas we shall be sure to feel the want of them in the rain. Do you understand? We dont want money now—but if we do so & so, we shall have to eat our thumbs instead of the grouse we had for dinner yesterday, on our wedding-day,—through Arabel’s liberality– Do you see? It’s all fear through far-seeing. As for me I am short-sighted .. for my happiness. I am never afraid of the year’s bills—& everything always turns out well I observe, just as if I, too, had been very ill with spasmodic terrors.
But I cant even wish to go down to Eastbourne alone—because, although Robert might let me, .. he assuredly would not like it. Also, I should do worse than spend money in doing so– I should choose to be away from Robert just when I am of most use to him every day in the proof-sheets. No—it would not be possible.
Poor darling Arabel—how vexed I have been for her. Set came the day before yesterday & has breakfasted with us these two last mornings– Mr Forster dined with us on our wedding-day—(Set was engaged to a grouse-dinner, he said, which was not ours.) Mr Macready was to have come too, & was on the way, when he was suddenly struck down with a sort of cholera. Now he is better,—& we are to meet him at Forster’s at dinner this evening.
Are you not sorry for Arlette? Fatherless & motherless now. [1] We shall go into mourning of course—but in the slightest & most economical way possible– It is a liberation for poor uncle Richard, who has been for so many weeks as one in prison indeed—scarcely sensible or perceiving–
Somebody come[s] in—& I cant wait, because of the post going– God bless you & yours–
Your ever ever
Attached Ba–
Address: Mrs Surtees Cook / Wilton / Taunton.
Publication: Huxley, pp. 227–228 (in part).
Manuscript: British Library.
1. Her father died three days before; see letter 3626. Her mother, Charlotte Butler (née Graham-Clarke, 1787–1834), had died in August 1834; see the end of letter 487.
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