Pages That Need Transcription
Fletcher Agnes Feb 28
Thursday. February 28
Dear Mrs. Sewall
"It is borne in upon me in the nature of a irresistable impulse that I make special and grateful mention of yesterdays hours of enjoyment spent at your house. Was it a house or an interpolation having no relation to ordinary concretions. Where could its duplicate be found - supplying such delicious pleasantries to every reuse?
Common threadbare conditions are made more gracious by such a memory.
I hope it wont offend to mention Madame's silken laciness of attire - all so softly radiant - a centre color - tone lending itself even to the framed golden sunset mists upon the wall-spaces and the Plumes of Paradise, or if you will have it, plain Russian Lilacs, wafting their exquisite odors. There "the inconceivable pathos of the human voice" - but was it "pathos" - that "merry
war" of words - women's voices with that attitude of free Culture where the number is not "more that the Muses, nor less than the graves" -- leaving out in some vague sombre distance all suggestion of this "weary sad, unintelligable world", and as of such a thing as a sodden, bleary East wind could have no existence anywhere.
Also, it was "Celestial Tea" and not "Sublime Tobacco", although both are called "the last Kind Solace of the wise and good".
I intended this note to make you laugh, but the gayety fails where I think that Baldwyn was so unfortunate as not to be able to pay his homage to you last night. You were surrounded by such a galaxy of the Elect: and he hasn't the art of a fine audacity - and Agnes who is under some Lenten, Penetential vows, could not remain for the feast of "Lucent syrup, [?] with Cinnamon", which was to follow - and so "some one had blundered" - Please accept my sincerest and best wishes. Agnes Fletcher