I have a great desire to take a long walk with you.

You are a witch, indeed, to have foreseen the result as you did. My Homer deceived me, or, it may be, it was to M. Vatout that his threatening prediction was directed.

Good-bye, dearest friend! Between my proof-reading, my reports to make out, and, in a measure also, the worry that I have endured for three days, I have scarcely found time to sleep. I am going to try now. I have some amusing incidents to tell you of men and things.

XC

March 17, 1844.

I thank you for your congratulations, but I want something more. I want to see you, and take a long walk. I think you have taken the matter too tragically. Why do you weep? The forty seats were not worth one little tear. I am exhausted, used up, demoralised, and completely out of my wits. Besides this, Arsène Guillot made a notorious fiasco, and raised against me a storm of indignation of all the so-called virtuous people, especially of the fashionable women who dance the polka and go to hear the sermons of P. Ravignan. At all events, it was reported that I behave like the monkeys, who climb to the top of the trees, and then, from the uppermost branch, make grimaces at the world beneath them. I am sure that this scandalous story has cost me many votes; but I have won them from another side. There are certain members who black-balled me seven times and who now assure me that they were my warmest partisans. Do you not think that all this is well worth the trouble of lying, especially for the goodwill I bear these people? This world in which I have lived almost exclusively for the last two weeks makes me wish all the more ardently to see you. We, at least, are sure of each other, and when you tell me fibs I can scold you for them, and you know how to win my forgiveness. Love me, venerable as I have become during the last three days.

XCI

Paris, March 26, 1844.

I fear the address may have seemed a little long to you. I hope it was not as cold where you were as it was on my side. I am still shivering. We ought to have taken a short walk after the ceremony. You noticed what a shocking cough I have. It might have been considered almost as intentional. Before the meeting the orator insisted that I should tell him in what part of the hall was sitting the lady to whom he had sent the invitations. Did you like him better in his costume than in a dress suit? You may persuade me of many things, but you will never be able to convince me that you were not speaking seriously about cakes when you were hungry. I uphold the use of my adjective, and you yourself even have recognised the justice of it. That was readily proved by your anger. You say you can only dream and amuse yourself. You know, besides that, how to conceal your thoughts, and this is what grieves me. Why is it, when we have become all we are to each other, that you must reflect for several days before replying frankly to the simplest question of mine? One would suppose that you suspected traps set for you on every side. Good-bye. I was delighted to see you there. I had some difficulty in finding you, hidden away behind your neighbour’s bonnet. Another example of your childishness! Did you see what I sent you, in full view of the Academy? But you are never willing to see anything.

XCII