From H. E. Darwin to Emma Darwin 13 April [1866]

Dear Mamy—

I'm so sorry to have such poor accounts of you all. I hope you will all get over y^r. influenza pretty quickly— Elinor's letter's are equally filled with accounts of coughs & colds—so we are not unique in our doleful situation. I am glad to say we are much more cheerful in our situation— Firstly the weather has looked up considerably & tho' not very settled is many degrees warmer— We have had 3 or 4 quite fine days & one very very lovely one—and Miss Smith is much better & trots about & amuses herself & that is an immense comfort—& I think E. is rather better— Today for the first time she has not had pain & has taken a little turn—& I think she has got over her idea of shunting me on to the Hensleighs & has resigned her mind to my not doing things—also I have since heard that they are going to be abroad so long a time that it is quite out of the question—& if I thk E. will be easy about me I wdn't think of leaving her so upon the whole this idea has died a natural death. I hope she is making a step in health  I thk she has made one in spirits—but we are both rather exasperated with Miss Smith (strict privacy required) I can't help feeling how comf we shd be if we were alone—& without her to tread upon one's moral corns. She takes every thing in such an awfully serious light & one finds days after that such and such a joke has rankled in her mind— I pretended to cry one day on finding that Elinor had eaten all the dates—this I believe combined with my saying ""lets order some marrons glacés"" has produced the impression that I am extremely partial to good things wh. impression is hauled out at the dinner table much to my anger—and she treads quite as badly on E.'s toes— She is tactless & one idead & I'm getting to think these are the two worst faults any one can have. She howls with Elinor about my being dull & yet she was quite vexed with me t'other day because I was going a good scramble with young Rob instead of going a dowager with her—if she really does mind my being shut up with them why not be glad when I do get a chance to go out—more partic as she never told me she wanted me until Rob & I had settled it all— Well, somewhat too much of her sins—here she is & we must make the best of her & she is really as good as possible—only if I vent I bear it better. It is chiefly the feeling, how happy we shd be without her— Well I've been much more busy in my goings on— Sunday was ceaseless rain Monday was spent in trapseing into the town with the Robs to see the Fête—Tuesday in the morning I went a very lovely drive with Miss Smith—Oh! it was so beatiful— Fresh snow had fallen on the distant hills at the same time as our hail & thunder—such hail as it was & the sea was as blue as blue & the Estrelles brilliant purple with the picturesque town in front as it were so fashioned & we were on the furthest spit of land making one side of the bay—

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The old town is exceedingly picturesque being built upon a steep little hill overhanging the Port with some old remains of a castle, now used up in the old church—& all the streets are very picturesque & old with the old women sitting half in the gutters knitting & sometimes a loaded mule nothing less primitive goes in these streets— It always makes such a fine foreground for the Estrelles— In the afternoon I set out a walk with young Rob. & had a most delicious one—I was prettily afraid I shd catch it for we weren't in till 10 minutes to six & that is too late for her— We went up a lovely valley with a rushing stream & no path to speak of—which as the heath was a high as Robs head made it tiring & so hot for we cdn't keep our parasols open & the sun beat down on us through the heath—however by crossing the stream every now & then we got on & it was so nice & retired—with a grove of umbrella pines—-after a time we set to work to mount the hill & chose a watercourse as the nearest approach to a path as cd be found & it was very steep & the heath very obstreperous & it didn't suit poor young Rob. who has bad lungs—we mustn't go such rough scrambles again, but it was her own doing & she seems all right since—but I was rather flabbergasted when I heard how bad she was the last time her breath went. This I didn't know till we were descending & she was all right again. So I went on alone a bit to explore & after mounting to the top and admiring the exquisite view—this was the most beautiful view I have seen yet & I am treasuring up this walk for the Hensleighs—an amphitheatre of the Estrelles—the Snowy Maritime Alps beyond—& the richest plain in front glistening with light so that the Olives looked silvery & the pines golden & always the lovely sea on one side. Before I cd get down again to Rob I found her half way after me & so we determined to go on path or no path—and the consequence was that after various vicissitudes & a many rents in my poor gown we got to a piece where the only descent seemed to be a succession of vine terraces—walk 2 or 3 yards & jump 7 f^t. which wd become rather trying after ones 4^th. or 5^th. jump—however just when I was getting despairful we came to a real path wh. got us out into a lane & watercourse combined wh. is the fashion in these parts & scurried home— Next day I went another nice walk with young Rob. but we stuck to paths this time & so had a less interesting, but less tiring walk— The people are so exceedingly civil here—we came upon a picturesque group of old souls washing in the rocky stream & they screached out Bon jour after us & so we held a little conversation with them & learnt the remarkable fact that a periwinkle was an espèce de sauvage violette. This was the Wednesday & today—(that is, since this letter began I have changed into Friday & it really is yesterday I am going to write about) I joined young Rob old Rob & Dolaw in an expedition to Grasse—a town in the hills famous for its perfumeries & bonbonièries. We had two very good horses highly necessary as it is 2 $\frac{1}{2}$ hours mostly mounting— They behaved pretty well. I don't mind young Rob—old Rob is terrible & Dolaw is exceedingly silly but no vice in him—however I can bear 'em in the open air— The drive to Grasse home it is lovely a difficult road is not enchanting but Grasse itself is a funny old town with the narrowest possible streets— of course we went to the shops to buy perfumes & dried fruits. Horace wd have liked the perfumery— I tried to converse to a man but my french got inextricably entangled & I had to give it up. I don't find it so fluent as I cd wish— I cd understand how they got the perfume into the lard but I cdn't make out how they got it out of it again. We found such a funny old chambermaid at the inn so utterly astonished at our understanding her or she us—""Elles comprennent les demoiselles! et moi je comprends aussi!"" The dried fruit shop was werry tempting—every conceivable & inconceivable kind of fruit in piles on the table & you might eat yr self ill if you liked. I got slices of pine apple crystalised—Oh! my! it is so good—& apricots and out of a sense of duty violets dried in sugar. I don't think they are good neither does E. & so I'm going to bring them home & give them to somebody as what I bought especially for them in Grasse. I feel more charitable to Miss Smith today—but she does not suit my taste enough to get over my grants & what I mind worse Elinor's grants— She means as well as possible which must be remembered. Tell Papa I will get to see young Batt. I am rather horror struck at the thoughts of Mogg. but I particularly asked you to send the letter to me so that I needn't see him unless I wanted to—i.e. unless I'd anything to say—& now the poor man has had the trouble of answering you.

Well I am going off praps to see L^d Brougham!! There is for you. I hope you are better—love & thanks to Lizzie yr H. E. D.

I shan't write to Geo till all is settled