Six days have I passed here very pleasantly. To-morrow I go, whither is not determined. You may, however, address me at New-York, which will most probably be my destination.
All those you saw when you were last here inquire about you with great civility and interest, and say pretty things of you. Don't be vain, madam, for I take this to be a kind of flattery to me, or to be so intended. Miss C. talks much of you, and L. N., and Miss A. Can you imagine what are Miss C.'s occupations and arrangements? Never; so I'll tell you. Why, she instructs two nieces and a nephew (things of twelve or thirteen) in astronomy, natural philosophy, and principles of botany! Her boudoir has globes, several mathematical instruments, &c. All this I discovered by accident; for she denies it all most strenuously, and with some pretty, unaffected embarrassment. Be assured this is an amiable, sensible girl. I don't believe you know her value: so I pray you to study her. She left town yesterday with her mother for Lebanon. Mr. C. went on Friday to New-York. What care you for all that?
Are you a good girl? Do you drink the waters, and bathe, and ride, and walk? I hear Mrs. W. is handsomer than during her widowhood, of which I am very glad. Mr. Russel left this on Thursday, intending to pass through Albany and Ballston on his way to Niagara. If he should come into your vicinage, desire Mr. Alston to recollect him. His wife is with him. I never saw her.
Tell me who you see, and what you do, and what are your plans. You had best return by Boston and Providence if you should have time. Can you make little chose drink the water? I dare say not. If I were there I would force some down his little throat. God bless you all.
A. BURR.
TO THEODOSIA.
New-York, August 6, 1803.
Your letter of the 20th of July was received from the postoffice on my arrival last evening. There must be some anachronism in the date, for you left New-York on the 21st. I learn, however, that you arrived, were well, and had danced. Lord, how I should have liked to see you dance. It is so long; how long is it? It is certain that you dance better than anybody and looked better. Not a word of the Spring waters, their effects, &c.
I made the journey from Providence by land in four days. Near town, yesterday, P.M., I met Mr. and Mrs. Harper, of Baltimore. They are to breakfast with me this morning; so I must make haste, for it is now eight o'clock. How bad I write to-day. With Mr. and Mrs. Harper was a pretty-looking, black-eyed lass, whose name I did not hear. I hope she is coming out to breakfast, for I like her. There was also that Liverpool merchant, who used to hang on Butler so in Charleston. I hope he won't come.
I wrote you from Providence, on Monday last, all I had to say of it and its inhabitants. I found the whole country, from Providence to this place, greatly alarmed about the yellow fever, said to be in New-York, and dreadful stories in circulation, as usual. There have been some suspicious cases, and some decided instances of yellow fever. Our practising physicians, however, our mayor and police-officers deny its existence. There is no alarm in town. The coffee-house is attended as usual. This length of intolerable heat has, I fear, prepared an atmosphere for the kind reception, if not for the generation of the fever. Now I hear the carriage. Bon jour. Be a good girl. Love to H. 'Twas nothing but a cart.