My health is infinitely improved, and I attribute it to nothing but the continual bustle I have been kept in for three weeks past. What a charming thing a bustle is. Oh, dear, delightful confusion. It gives a circulation to the blood, an activity to the mind, and a spring to the spirits.
THEODOSIA.
TO THEODOSIA.
Washington, December 27, 1803.
Indeed, indeed, my dear little Theodosia, I will write to you very soon. Don't scold and pout so, and I will tell you how I visited Annapolis, and how I returned about an hour ago. All that, however, may be told in half a line. I went and returned in my own little coachee. But what I did and who I saw are other matters. Something, too, about Celeste, and something about Madame G., whom you are pleased to term the rich widow. This, I think, will keep you quiet a week.
Your letter, written on your return from seeing Natalie, is received. You are a dear good little girl to write me so; and of dear little gampy, too, so much, yet never enough. God bless thee.
A. BURR
FROM THEODOSIA.
Clifton, December 10, 1803.
Behold me again at Clifton; and, in good truth, I begin to be cloyed with the delights of bustle. William and myself left this the day after the date of my last. Some difficulty in crossing the horses delayed us till then. We reached Charleston on the second day, and I found Natalie delighted to see me, and still pretty. She has grown thinner, much thinner; but her complexion is still good, though more languid. The loss of her hair is, however, an alteration much for the worse. Her crop is pretty, but not half so much so as her fine brown hair. I write you all these foolish little particulars because you enter into them all, or, rather, are sensible of all their importance to us. Natalie has a lovely little daughter called after her.