Aldis Wright has sent me a Photograph, copied from Mrs. Cameron’s original, of James Spedding—so fine that I know not whether I feel more pleasure or pain in looking at it. When you return to England, you shall see it somehow.
I have had a letter or two from Annie Ritchie, who is busy writing various Articles for Magazines. One concerning Miss Edgeworth in the Cornhill is pleasant reading. [250b] She tells me that Tennyson is at Aldworth (his Hampshire house, you know), and a notice in
Athenæum or Academy tells that he is about to produce ‘a Pastoral Drama’ at one of the smaller Theatres! [251a]
You may have seen—but more probably have not seen—how Mr. Irving and Co. have brought out ‘Much Ado’ with all éclat.
It seems to me (but I believe it seems so every year) that our trees keep their leaves very long; I suppose because of no severe frosts or winds up to this time. And my garden still shows some Geranium, Salvia, Nasturtium, Great Convolvulus, and that grand African Marigold whose Colour is so comfortable to us Spanish-like Paddies. [251b] I have also a dear Oleander which even now has a score of blossoms on it, and touches the top of my little Greenhouse—having been sent me when ‘haut comme ça,’ as Marquis Somebody used to say in the days of Louis XIV. Don’t you love the Oleander? So clean in its leaves and stem, as so beautiful in its flower; loving to stand in water, which it drinks up so fast. I rather worship mine.
Here is pretty matter to get Coutts to further on to Paris—to Mrs. Kemble in Paris. And I have written it all in my best MS. with a pen that has been held with its nib in water for more than a fortnight—Charles Keene’s recipe for keeping Pens in condition—Oleander-like.
Please to make my Compliments to Mrs. Wister—my good wishes to the young Musician; [252a] and pray do you believe me your sincere as ever—in spite of his new name—
Littlegrange.
CIX.
[Nov., 1882.]