I assure you I hardly closed my eyes for several nights, thinking of the MISERY you must be undergoing; for _I_ KNOW you, Hildegarde! and the thought of my proud, fastidious, high-bred Queen being condemned to associate with _clowns_ and _laborers_ was really MORE than I could bear.

Do write to me, darling, and tell me HOW you are enduring it.

You were _always_ so sensitive; why, I can see your lip curl _now_, when any of the girls did anything that was not _tout a fait comme il faut_! and the _air_ with which you used to say, "The _little_ things, my dear, are the _only_ things!" How _true_ it is! I feel it more and more _every_ day.

So _do_ write _at once_, and let me know _all_ about your dear self.

I picture you to myself sometimes, pale and thin, with the "_white disdain_" that some poet or other speaks of, in your face, but enduring all the HORRORS that you must be subjected to with your OWN DIGNITY.