Letter from Mary Elizabeth Garrett to M. Carey Thomas, September 10, 1890

Dearest Minnie, I will begin by returning the note about Dr. C.GÇÖs letter. I am so sorry, but it seemed so entirely a matter of course after all the discussion which you may remember with Harry and all of them about NellieGÇÖs health that the letter was in connection with her, that I, without stopping to realize that your Father might not know that I knew anything about her going to Dr. C., write the note. It certainly did not seem to me that he would suppose I knew anything beyond the fact that she was wretched and suffering a great deal from headache, etc., and that you had taken the opportunity of being in New York to consult someone who was better than the college physician. I think it is the first time I have ever done such a thing to you, and I hope it will be the last and will not destroy your confidence in my being able to keep a secret. You ask about my having made good resolutions and whether I think I shall keep them. I you know how tired I was you would not expect me to make resolutions. I have never in my life felt more absolutely disinclined to do any work or make any exertion and I dread the going back to it all. This holiday is too short to be of much use and bringing Miss. C. was a mistake, and I fear she is a mistake. For one thing, she is very delicate, she is also far from energetic (to put it mildly) and she seems to have very little initiative or independence, so that I always have to have her on my mind. She also does not like to go about alone, says she does not enjoy doing things by herself, and in sum, confidentially, it is a tremendous toll to have a stranger about you and with you all the time and in all words, and it has not helped me to get rested. I doubt whether she would ever make a very good secretary, as she is rather careless and very forgetful, but she has not been really tested. Even the little she has done, however, usually seems to use her up, and she looks and seems so wretchedly delicate, that I donGÇÖt feel like suggesting work to her. She is working at shorthand, but very spasmidically [sic] I think and the typewriter she began by leaving in her room in London and since its return I donGÇÖt believe she has practiced at all. She seems to care to read nothing but novels of which she simply devours every one she can lay her hands on except Austin Dolson a great deal and Andrew Lang a little and Herrick less and she usually gets up at about 10. All this I am afraid does not sound very kind, but this whole summer has been so absolutely unsatisfactory and she too has to be counted on the wrong side. But to tell you something of what I have been doing, we left Aix on the 4th, had a perfectly beautiful but very long - 12 hours - journey to Zurich, drove about the town, when I wondered where your quarters had been in the morning and went up the Hetliberg in the afternoon; came on the next day to this place - also a most beautiful journey of only 8 hours, where Alice and I had planned to meet. They were detained for 2 days however by weather, so that we had two very quiet days here, until they arrived on Monday afternoon. We took things very quietly, as both Miss C. and I were tired, but did get to the Hit Kirche, whose statues have always fascinated me [illegible], and took a long drive through the hills on Sunday afternoon, when the cloud effects were particularly fine. The plan was to have taken a driving trip for the next two or three weeks between here and Guindey, but Alice is really not up to it and after much discussion and changing of plans, we have finally settled on going directly through to Salzburg by rail on Friday, and staying there as long as we find it pleasant if it suits her. The boys have grown almost into men in these 16 months, but are just as simple and unaffected as they were, and it is a very great pleasure to be with them. At the end of the month they go to Dresden where they expect to spend the winter and I go to Paris where I expect to find Robert and his wife and then on Oct. 11th we all sail. I wish the School and the Fund could be swallowed in oblivion for this winter, and that I could occasionally pay you a little visit at Bryn Mawr with nothing to discuss but the beautiful things you have been seeing and reading and your work at Bryn Mawr. I wonder if such a day will ever come! I am glad to hear that you are so much better and I do hope you are not going to get so tired again this year. About the photographs, I donGÇÖt want to return any, but I do nevertheless. The small standing one I care least for, as it is too indistinct, the large standing one I like very much and you ought to have some and please let me have one. After very much hesitation, I have kept the full face, but I like the reading one very much, and if you have not ordered enough to spare me one of it and me of the large standing ones, may I order one of each for myself from H.? For the students I should have the old one. The one I have kept is very sad but it has a great deal in it that I like. And now I must say goodnight, as this must not miss the mail and it is very late. You have not given me your steamer so that I am not sure of the date and donGÇÖt know the name, so cannot write to her, and must say goodbye and bon voyage to you both now as I am too tired to write Mamie as I hoped tonight. They all came in after dinner and stayed so late that it left very little time and this morning too I was interrupted. I enclose mem. Received today only from Julia about the rooms. And would you mind sending me the address of your Paris dressmaker and her prices, if she was satisfactory, or of one you know about it you would rather not give that for any reason. I am sorry to say I have got to get some clothes and I do not want to go to my old people if I can find a good new one. With love to Mamie and hoping you will have a delightful voyage. Lovingly yours, Mary E.G.