I suppose
that your ears are somewhat stunned with your praises, appearing as
you do after so long an interval; but I hope that, amid the din, you
will not disdain the whisper from such sincere admirers as I am
myself, and my wife and daughter are. I don't know which of the trio
is the warmest one, and we have been fighting over the book, as it is
one which, for the first reading at least, I did not like to hear
aloud. I am only writing in a vague, maundering, uncritical way, to
express sincere sympathy and gratitude, not to exhibit any dissenting
powers, if I have any. If I were composing an article for a review, of
course I should feel obliged to show cause for my admiration, but I am
now only obeying an impulse. Permit me to say, however, that your
style seems, if possible, more perfect than ever. Where, oh where is
the godmother who gave you to talk pearls and diamonds? How easy it
seems till anybody else tries! Believe me, I don't say to you half
what I say behind your back; and I have said a dozen times that nobody
can write English but you. With regard to the story, which has been
slightly criticised, I can only say that to me it is quite
satisfactory. I like those shadowy, weird, fantastic, Hawthornesque
shapes flitting through the golden gloom which is the atmosphere of
the book. I like the misty way in which the story is indicated rather
than revealed. The outlines are quite definite enough, from the
beginning to the end, to those who have imagination enough to follow
you in your airy flights; and to those who complain, I suppose nothing
less than an illustrated edition, with a large gallows on the last
page, with Donatello in the most pensive of attitudes, his ears
revealed at last through a white nightcap, would be satisfactory.
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