SD2775. Sarianna Browning to Joseph Milsand
Published in The Brownings’ Correspondence, 31, 322 (in part).
151, rue de Grenelle St Gn.
July 17th [1865] [1]
My dear Mr Milsand,
It would be very easy for me to make all sorts of plausible excuses for not writing, but I am too truthful to do so. The plain fact is that I was waiting for a letter which I expect from Robert to-morrow, to tell you something definite about our movements, and that I do not feel quite so sure of my own powers of entertainment now, as I did during your former absences when I used to hasten to send you all my little Paris gossip because I fancied naïvely that you must be rather dull all alone! You have now plenty of occupation and amusement, and are not dependent on the outer circle of friends. Don’t misunderstand me, though you are unjust to me sometimes. You know my old love for you is unaltered and unalterable. I would write to you every day in the week if I could really believe in the bottom of my heart, that it gave you any true pleasure. I have sent you last week an Athn and all the Pall Malls—they come regularly now. The heat here is frightful. We are none of us well. My father seems much oppressed. I have no appetite for a crumb of bread, and my only comfort and consolation is in eating plums. I am under the dentist’s hands—he is stopping two of my teeth—one of them, a front double tooth was to be stopped with gold—a very tedious and very expensive new process, but on going to him this morning I found him suffering so much from the heat—all yesterday his head was covered with ice,—that I took pity on him and adjourned the operation. We had a violent thunder storm last night (I was very brave) but it has left the atmosphere hotter than it was previously. What you say of July being a delightful month for the sea-side is perfectly true—but the blame you attach to tourists is not quite so just. Many people cannot pass a longer holiday in the country than a month or six weeks, and our English doctors say that sea-bathing is most beneficial in the autumn, which is precisely the time when great cities are most unwholesome. I myself have found on returning to Paris from Dieppe on the 1st Sept. that the town air made me quite ill. I am afraid you are a little too bold with regard to the sea—it is powerful for evil as well as good. Claire ought not to be for hours with her feet in the water—and remember, with regard to Mme Milsand, that the sea-water is particularly bad for the eyes: children ought never to be allowed to splash sea-water in each other’s faces—as they are fond of doing. I have no natural love for the sea—as a little child I had an agony of dread of it. I thought it was a living, roaring monster, rushing to swallow me up.
On Saturday I was surprised by a visit from Anthony Snellgrove—(the eldest son of an old friend of my father’s). I don’t think you have ever met him, though he is often in Paris. I have known him from a little boy—he brought his bride with him—they are going to spend the honeymoon in Switzerland. I expect them here this evening—he is an excellent young man—though he cannot be very young now—however, he does not look a day older than he did fifteen years ago– She, the two days’ wife, seems a good simple innocent little thing, and pretty into the bargain—we get on very well together. Now I won’t take another sheet of paper because I ought to be elsewhere—but if you’ll write, I promise to despatch another epistle immediately.
Ever yours–
S.B.
Address: Monsieur Milsand. / Maison François Meriel. / Sst Aubin sur Mer. / par Caen. / Calvados.
Publication: None traced.
Manuscript: Armstrong Browning Library, Joseph Milsand Archive.
1. Year provided by postmark.
___________________
