The allusions at the end of this letter are to the visit paid by H. J. to Mr. and Mrs. Humphry Ward at the Villa Barberini, Castel Gandolfo, during his stay in Italy. Mrs. Ward has described the excursion to Nemi, "the strawberries and Aristodemo," in A Writer's Recollections, pp. 327-9.
Lamb House, Rye.
July 10th, 1899.
Dear Mrs. Ward,
I have a very bad conscience and a very heavy heart about my failure to communicate with you again before you left Rome—for I heard (afterwards—much afterwards) that you had had final trouble and inconvenience—that Miss Gertrude, brave being, tempted providence—by her very bravery—to renew its assaults—and that illness and complications encumbered your last steps. On the subject of all this I ought long since to have condoled with you, in default of having condoled at the time—yet lo, I have shamefully waited for the ignoble facility of my own table and inkstand, to which, after too prolonged a separation, I have but just been restored. I got home—from Turin—but three days ago—and very, very cool and green and wholesome (though only comparatively, I admit) does this little insular nook appear. After I last saw you I too was caught up, if not cast down, by the Fates—whirled, by irresistible Marion Crawfords—off to Sorrento, Capri, Naples—all of which had not been in the least in my programme—thence, afterwards, to live in heat and hurry and inconvenient submission and compromise—till Florence, in its turn, made a long arm and pocketed me (oh, so stuffily!) till but a few days ago. All this time I've been the slave of others—and I return to a perfect mountain of unforwarded (by a rash and delusive policy) postal matter. But I bore through the mountain straight at Stocks—or even, according to an intimation you gave me, at Grosvenor Place. I heartily hope all the crumples and stains of travel have by this time been washed and smoothed away—and that you have nothing but romantic recollections and regrets. I pray Miss Ward be wholly at her ease again and that, somehow or other, you may have woven a big piece of your tapestry. I should say, frankly, "Mayn't I come down and see?—or hear?" were it not that I return to fearful arrears myself, and restored to this small temple of application, from which I've so long been absent, feel absolutely obliged to sit tight for several weeks to come. Later in the summer, if you'll let me, I shall ask for an invitation. If all this while I've not sent you The Awkward Age it has been because I thought it not fair to make any such appeal to your attention while you were preoccupied and worried. Perhaps—absolutely, in fact—I wanted the book to reach you at a moment when the coast might be comparatively clear. Possibly it isn't clear even now. At all events I am writing to Heinemann to-day to despatch to you the volume. But please don't look at it till all the elements of leisure—margin—peace of mind—lend themselves. And don't answer this. You have far other business in hand.
My four months in Italy did more for me, I imagine, than I shall yet awhile know. One must draw on them a little to find out. Doubtless you are drawing hard on yours. For me (I am clear about that) the Nemi Lake, and the walk down and up (the latter perhaps most,) and the strawberries and Aristodemo were the cream. It will be a joy to have it all out again with you and to hear of your other adventures. I hope Miss Dorothy and Miss Janet (please tell them) are finding London, if you are still there, come si deve. Yours and theirs and Humphry's, dear Mrs. Ward, very constantly,
HENRY JAMES.
To Mrs. Humphry Ward.
It will be understood that Mrs. Ward had consulted H. J. on certain details, relating in particular to the American background of one of the characters in her forthcoming novel Eleanor, the scene of which was partly laid at Castel Gandolfo.
Lamb House, Rye.
Sunday. [July 1899].
Dear Mrs. Ward,