TO THEODOSIA.
New-York, May 1, 1804.
Your letter of the 16th of April had better luck than that other of the 1st.; on the road, I mean, for the reception of both was equally kind. The last arrived yesterday. I do not remember exactly what it is about, and it is on my table in the library up stairs, and I am writing in the dining-room beside a good fire on this evening of the first of May. Now madame pour quelque chose tres interessante.
How limited is human foresight! How truly are we the sport of accident. To-morrow I had proposed to visit Celeste, and now, alas! cetera desunt.
La G. may be forty-one. Something of the style and manners of la tante de La R. Is about as silly; talks as much, and as much nonsense; is certainly good-tempered and cheerful; rather comely, abating a flat chest; about two inches taller than Theodosia. Things are not gone to extremities; but there is danger—poor gampy.
The election is lost by a great majority: tant mieux. It does not appear possible that I should make you a visit; even if La G. should not prevent it, which ought to be hoped, some other thing of like kind will.
Tell Natalie that I have just now received her letter, which she acknowledges to be in answer to four of mine. Of the boy you have been remarkably reserved in your two last letters. I conclude, however, that he cannot be dead, as you would, probably, have thought that a circumstance worthy of being mentioned, at least in a postscript. Now Natalie has written me a whole page about her girl, for which I am very grateful.
What would you bet that La G. is not in a kind of quandary just now?
Gods! what a pathetic love-scene it will make if it shall go on.
Adieu.