SD2773. Sarianna Browning to Joseph Milsand
Published in The Brownings’ Correspondence, 31, 321 (in part).
151 rue de Grenelle St Gn
July 6th [1865] [1]
My dear Mr Milsand,
I was sorry not to see you on Saturday evening, but of course under the circumstances it was impossible for you to come—and perhaps we were better without you, for your superior wisdom might have made us ashamed of the cat’s cradle which proved such a source of laughter. I am glad Claire enjoyed herself. I felt rather afraid of inviting her when I remembered the torture I used to endure in early childhood at being asked by well-meaning friends to spend the day with them, and being despatched by my dear mother with strict injunctions to be “very good!” However, on Saturday I had a great help in Ellen Dyke, who seems growing a good little girl under the wing of her mother, who never in all her life had a system, plan, or theory in her head, poor woman.
The heat here is absolutely unbearable. I am afraid we shall all be ill if it lasts much longer. My father called me up in the middle of the night, feeling unwell. I sat with him for a couple of hours till he fell asleep again—to-day is his birthday. Miss Church is coming to dine with us. I wish Robert would hasten his arrival. I long for the sea. You are better off—tell me how you are. Whenever I know our plans, I will write and tell you. They say there is nobody left in Paris now, but English and mad dogs– I shall unite both qualifications if I stay here much longer.
I went on Sunday evening to hear M. de Pressensé whom I liked very much—the sermon was far more simple and earnest than I had expected. The form of service is not pleasant to me—it is scarcely public worship, though it may be public instruction. I feel a want but that may be a personal peculiarity which may not affect others. With this, I forward an Athenæum and a Pall Mall tied together—only one of the latter has reached me, alas! I feel a fit of rabid Anglomania coming over me—if I were to meet the Emperor I am sure I should ask him why he steals our papers.
It is too hot to write, and I have nothing to say. I need not tell you I miss you—that you know without words: there is no danger of our misunderstanding each other on some points—though so wide apart on others. Take in a good stock of health, and be happy! God bless you, dear Friend.
Present my compliments to your wife, and kiss Claire for me.
Ever yours affectionately,
S.B.
Address: Monsieur Milsand, / chez M. François Mériel, / St Aubin-sur-Mer, / Caen. / (Calvados.)
Publication: None traced.
Manuscript: Armstrong Browning Library, Joseph Milsand Archive.
1. Year provided by postmark.
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