SPEC COL R.B. PR S083.A43 1872

Transcribed letter from William Morris to Aglaia Ionides Coronio, dated October 24th, 1872.

Queen Sq:Oct: 24th. 1872

My dear Aglaia

I am so grieved to hear of your troubles though I hope by the time you get this they may be bettered: I don’t wonder that you crave for more comforts: for ‘tis a different thing (since you compare Iceland & Athens in this) to sit over a sick child with nothing particular to do, and to get up every morning for a ride in the fresh air, not caring where you are to be at night, and in short with not sort of responsibility or anxiety about you: I am quite distressed that you should be worried: I was hoping by the tones of your first letter that you would be having a not uncomfortable time of it with pleasant memories for time to come. When are you coming back again? You know how much I miss you so there is no need of talking of that anymore.

I should have answered your last letter before; but I have had a fit of low spirits – for no particular reason that I could tell – which is over now for the present I hope. I am and have been hard at work on the Icelandic translations principally but my book will be published in about a months time. I suppose you see that Tennyson is publishing another little lot of Arthurian legend, we all know pretty well what it will be; and I confess I don’t look forward to it.

I went down to Kelmscott on Saturday last till Tuesday and spent most of my time on the river: it ought to cool you in dusty Athens there to hear of my Sunday on the Thames: a bitter north east wind and pouring rain almost all day long: however I enjoyed it on the whole; and Monday was fine and warm, so the days went well enough: but Lord how dull the evenings were! With William Ro­ssetti also to help us. Janey was looking and feeling much better. It was such a beautiful morning when I came away, with a faint blue sky and thin far away white clouds  about it: the robins hopping and singing all about the garden. The fieldfares , which are a winter bird and come from Norway are chattering all about the berry trees now, and the starlings, as they have done for two months past, collect in great flocks about sunset, and make such a noise before they go off to roost. The place looks as beautiful as ever though somewhat melancholy in its flowerless autumn garden. I shall not be here much now I suppose.

We are looking after a house in the west of London still; still but a tolerable one after my wishes  seems hard to find.

I am going to stay for a day or two with {Fred?} next week I fancy. I have had a hardish time of it here all alone with Bessy; with whom I seldom exchange any word that is not necessary. What a wearing business it is to live with a person with whom you have nothing whatever to do!

I am afraid my letters are stupid: one needs the flint and steel of question and answer to exchange ideas to any purpose. And after all one has so much to say that unless by some special luck one wanders about without fixing on any real subject at all.

Goodbye and I hope to hear better news of you soon.

Love

Your affectionate

                  William Morris