Baden-Baden,
August.
What a bad, bad child I am not to write oftener—does the fascinating Mona Lisa correspond constantly? I feel quite guilty, after receiving so many long and interesting letters from you. Well, I am very, very sorry that you are not well, and only wish I were with you at Monte Catini to take care of you.
A. D., what do you think? ! ! ! I have had another proposal—this one by letter—since I saw you. From Gonzaga; but I wrote him he had better marry his cousin the Countess and forget me. Aunt thinks it isn’t so fine an offer, from a worldly point of view, as the Prince’s, (he writes Aunt frequently) and she still has hopes of my changing my mind and accepting him. If I married G. his mother would not approve of me, an American. She would say I was too independent and had married him for his title. Although life as the wife of a Spanish Diplomat spent in the different capitals of Europe would be interesting, still I know G. would not remain true to me for more than a few months, at most.
If I married Captain Carlo, well! I would hunt on the Campagna, join the gayest set in Rome, and continue my flirtations. I would wear the family jewels and keep the tapestries (unless we got hard up) and be tolerated if I presented my lord and master with a son and heir. But then he is far away in South Africa by now.
If I should marry Prince Boris, what would my life be? Ah! that is a question. On the whole I might get more out of life by marrying a foreigner and living in Europe, than an American and passing my time maybe in a small western town, who knows?
Signor Peppi leaves this afternoon for Rome, and, I fear, without making an offer to Aunt. I want to send you something by him, but he has already lost his boots and cane as well as his overcoat, so no telling how much of him will arrive there. However, I will risk sending you a little gift.
I am just full of business. Aunt says I must learn to travel, so this is the first trip I am to manage. I have been despatching telegrams in all directions, buying tickets, reservations, and Baedekers, and so forth, and I hope we shall get to the Hague all right.
Are you behaving yourself these days, sir?