Letter from Mary Elizabeth Garrett to M. Carey Thomas, January 17, 1890

Dearest Minnie, I plead guilty, but put off answering hoping that the next day I could say definitely that I could come next week. Things never seem to go as fast as on likes, however, and it is possible that the business matter that made me uncertain may not be settled up by Thursday (for I should like to see the GÇ£entertainingGÇ¥ guests) or even by Friday, so that I could not get off next week either, but I hope very much this may not be in the way. I think you are very good to want me again when I was so excessively far from entertaining when you saw me here. If I get there this time, I cannot promise to be any more so, but you will have to make up by being doubly so, trusting for the future (a very distant one, I fear) for the payment of the debt. I too have had a note from Miss Andrews, which I enclose as it may amuse you in view of what we know her sentiments for me are - of course I must go and I wrote her I would try to see her this afternoon but I dread it, for I think of course there must be some object. Evening Here I was interrupted and I have seen the poor little woman, who seemed to have no object other than to talk to a fresh person. She informed me that she did not know that she was to have operation, [illegible] that she was under either for more than 3 hours and that one was performed then and that she overheard Dr. KellyGÇÖs remark about its being a pretty bad case or something of the sort, that he at first told her she might never to teach again and then when he found how essential it was to her, that she must not for a year and a half; that he had suggested her becoming a nurse (ye gods, is it possible there is even a grain of foundation for this?) but that on the whole she thought she would go back to her Pomeranian friends at the end of May, when she expected to be strong enough to travel and to be able to wear her regular dresses again, and that, as they had asked her to spend the summer with them, she thought they would keep her till the end of August; when their winter set in, and as this is too severe and too damp for her, that she could then, through their large connection with the Adel (sic), go to some family who would give her her board in exchange for an hour or an hour and a halfGÇÖs lesson a day and perhaps speaking English through the [illegible] with them. Did I not think this a good plan? All this, the GÇ£ValkingGÇ¥ of her plan about the second degree at Michigan, why she thought nursing would not be the best thing for her, why she couldnGÇÖt go to May and an account of May and her husband and her baby and a full account of all she had done and had meant and still meant to do at Bryn Mawr, and her symptoms and her visits to the operating room. The difference between Dr. KellyGÇÖs and Dr. RichardsonGÇÖs treatment and much more, was poured forth in an almost unbroken stream in her sweet monotonous voice in my ten minutesGÇÖ visit, until my brain was in a whirl. She is certainly a second Marie Basbhirtseff [?] in her egotism and I should think the Hospital people would long for her 6 weeks to be at an end. She said Dr. K. was going to consult your father about what it was best for her to do, among other things. The uncles were there in immense force, but were the one thing she did not mention. Julia saw Miss Locke at the same time and gave a very good account of her indeed, as did Miss Hampton. And now I will tell you what I was doing while you were writing to me last Sunday afternoon. After another unusually depressed and depressing day, I established myself in the swinging seat very lazily and tried to tranquilize myself by reading Plutarch GÇ£on the Tranquility of the mindGÇ¥ but not succeeding in getting into a properly philosophic frame of mind, tried one of Mrs. AlexanderGÇÖs novels, and the soothing effect of that and the dusk together finally put me to sleep, and so I forgot the cares and worries of life until I was roused by Frances coming in to light the lamps. Of course you have heard by this time of GertrudeGÇÖs engagement to Abbey - I am curious to know whether she has written you about it. Do you know anything about what sort of a man he is? This is evidently the result of her summer at Broadway. I have heard absolutely nothing of her for a long time now, so that it was a complete surprise. I am better this week, to answer your question, but ridiculous as it may seem, still weak enough to be tired from writing these two small sheets so that I must say goodbye and lie down for a while. Lovingly yours, Mary E.G.