Ellen Axson Wilson to Woodrow Wilson

Jessie is doing splendidly in every respect, and I am just as happy as I can be. Her pulse even is rising and in every other respect she is well. She sat up an hour and a half today without feeling tired at all she said, and she certainly did not look so. She has a good colour, tongue perfectly clean, kidneys all right, &c &c. It is really wonderful how fast she is recovering. Oh I am so thankful & happy! I wrote to Dr Bull about the pulse & received the enclosed reply which of course relieved my fears. My only anxiety now is that she should not over exert herself in any respect. The journey to Fiesole seems vary formidable, and I long to stay here until it is time to sail, only breaking the journey long enough to rest her. But she gets perfectly frantic at the mere suggestion, sobbing herself almost into a fever, so that both nurse & doctor say she must be humoured and I must make very effort to satisfy her. She certainly is a wonderful child; to all appearances she hasn't given her own disappointments a thought, but is breaking her heart at the interruption to my plans & Mary's; we had a dreadful scene with her about at it all at first, she crying that it would be “very, very bad” for her if I failed to “see the pictures”; and trying to persuade me to leave her here with the sister after her throat cleared. I never in my life exercised more ingenuity than in trying to satisfy her, but I succeeded at last,— only she has a relapse into change tears & excitement at any hint of postponing our leaving. She is a perfect angel of unselfishness; – but it is adding to my difficulties and anxieties all the same. I have promised her to leave her in the mornings with the sister in Florence Fiesole and to “see as much in ten days as I would have done in two weeks”; & I have persuaded her that I did not care for Sienna,– was only going there to please Cousin Mary. Venice & Milan it was much harder to dispose of; it seemed as if she would have a fever about my missing Venice in spite of all I could do. But I told her they were so far north that “one could easily run down to them from Switzerland some summer.” Then I must “solemnly promise” that I would do so; when I hesitated the nurse hastily motioned to me to humour her & I did so; then at last she drew a long sigh of relief & began to smile through the tears,– poor darling! It was the most touchingly unselfish thing I ever saw.

Then I had a struggle trying to persuade Mary Hoyt to leave us. But I have ceased worrying about that now, for I cannot help seeing that she really does enjoy, more than any picture gallery, watching Spring reveal herself in old grey Assisi and among the beautiful, “olive-girdled” Umbrian hills. I too am enjoying it intensely, now that my anxieties are, for the time being, over; when Jessie can go out to drive with us it will be heavenly; — indeed I foresee that we will leave it almost in tears in spite of our tragical beginning,— (It poured rain & was miserably cold the first three days we were here; — just to illustrate “the pathetic fallacy” of nature's sympathy with man!) As for the doctor I don't see how we are to leave him at all! he is “perfectly lovely,” – a beautiful bald-headed angel. I have lost my heart to him entirely, — and I more than suspect that the feeling is mutual! It is really piquant, is it not? – for two persons who cannot speak to each other to indulge in such tender sentiments! Seriously it is pleasant to find that there is an international language in which to express kindness of heart, sympathy, gratitude, reassurance, courtesy and many other kindly, gentle feelings. The doctor's family are as nice as himself. His two handsome young daughters, one twenty one twelve, have an unaffected charm of manner that is enchanting. How I wish that exquisite flower of courtesy could be transplanted to American soil! It is simplicity itself, yet it has about it a delicate grace that suggests “old, forgotten, far-off days.” And they are as clever and ambitious as American girls too; even Gabrielle, the little one, is already proficient in Latin, French & German, and a very hard student. Mary takes conversation lessons in Italian from the elder, and the younger is sent here almost every day with flowers & aspic jelly for Jessie ; — regardless of the danger of contagion! He cannot get over our amazement at their recklessness in that respect. Fortunately we know what ought to be done before we leave & are insisting upon it rigidly. Our landlady actually sends up her children's toys, – puzzle blocks, &c.— for Jessie to play with; and when we expostulate shrugs her shoulders and says “oh its nothink!” —That reminds me of Dr. Bull & his letter again; I meant to say that though he has such a very English name he is really a Dane, which explains the peculiarities of his style. I suppose the final compliment to me is intended to make me more cheerful about the size of his bill! — Cook is ugly about returning our money, & Dr. Bull has taken the matter to the American Consul. They say we will get the money back in “some months”. So for present purposes I am out some $45.00 more. Moreover I can't get into the convent at Fiesole & am ordered to the convent hotel there,– an expensive place. It seems impossible to calculate how much I shall need to get home, but with Dr Bull's $160.00, the nurse, &c. I know I shall run pretty close, & I don't want to depend on Mary's hundred, because it has not arrived yet. The only thing to do to feel safe is to telegraph to you for more! How I hate to do it!— How I wish I were like that classical person who had “nothing on his mind but his hair”! If I could stay quietly here for a month I would feel free from care. It is having Jessie travel so soon that keeps me tremulous; I will heave a long sigh of relief when we are finally on the steamer! — But all these ups & downs will be over, darling, long before this reaches you, and I ought not to trouble you with them. Somehow it is a comfort to pour it all out to you, just as if the dear eyes were going to see it tomorrow at the latest. You will know, God willing, even while you read, that all the trouble is over, — our darling really well & at least fairly strong, so you will not be troubled by my tremours. But it is time for me too relieve dear Mary. We are perfectly well & even out of danger, for Jessie's throat has been quite clear for a week.

To all my dear ones love, & to my dear one love unspeakable, from