To my great disappointment there is no letter from you this morning. So I am left in entire doubt as to your plans; I sent the notice of course to the Princetonian according to directions, yet I cannot but hope a little to see you tonight, since I you found Father so much better. I doubt whether this will reach you in any event, but will send a few lines on the chance.
We are having something of a blizzard today, that is, it is not snowing now but a tremendous windstorm is whirling the snow that fell yesterday. A branch from the dying pine was broken off an hour ago. And — isn't it provoking? — the telephone has refused to work either yesterday or today!— just when we needed it most. Mrs. Cleveland, who brought me home from the Club, says hers is in the same condition.
Isn't it a pity that the Perry's should have such weather for their visit? I meant to go to the Winans this morning but had to give it up; will drive to the tea this afternoon. Mr. and Mrs. Westcott are both in bed with the grip but the tea is to go on, the other women receiving. The Perry's will remain over Sunday at the Winans. They must leave Monday morning so our dinner is off. Isn't the Armour dinner ill-fated, first we fail, and now the Westcotts.
Mrs. Young died yesterday afternoon. The body is to be taken to Hanover.
We had great fun at the Club yesterday; we elected nineteen men, — nine of them unanimously. There were ten present. Not a Southerner was elected! Was not that narrow-minded? Lee & Stonewall had each four votes, Calhoun one, mine Clay, three (though Webster had all ten,) Poe, four. — We are all perfectly well, and send love beyond words to dear Father and you. I love you dear,—how tenderly how passionately even you do not know. No important mail except the proofs of your essay.