CCCXVI
Cannes, April 23, 1869.
Dear Friend: I shall leave here day after to-morrow. I am in pretty poor plight, but I am obliged to leave this place. My cousin, in whose home I live, is dead, and his poor widow has no one with her. I am still very weak, but think I am able to endure the trip. I shall notify you as soon as I arrive, and hope to find you in good health. Good-bye, dear friend.
CCCXVII
Paris, Sunday, May 2, 1869.
Dear Friend: I have been in Paris several days, but I was so exhausted from the journey, and so ill, that I had not the courage to write to you. Come to see me, and console me. Good-bye.
CCCXVIII
Paris, May 4, 1869.
I am distressed that you did not wait two minutes. You did not allow them to tell me, and contented yourself by returning my book, and this you call a visit to a sick man! Your charity was easily satisfied. But it does not count; besides, I am a little better, and need you to go to the Exposition with me, where I have no desire to see daubs and nudities.
You shall be my guide. Do you remember the time when I was yours? Tell me what day will suit you. Good-bye, dear friend.