Thanks for your last letter; thank Mauve and his wife for theirs, too, if you will, which I was glad to receive. I’m very eager to see the two paintings by M. that are going to the Salon.1
Gladwell may be coming back to his old room; he’s taking my place here in the gallery.
Is it also blowing up a storm like this in The Hague? Here for a few days already, almost continuously.
You should know that if nothing unforeseen happens I’ll go to Etten first. I’m thinking of leaving here on 1 April or perhaps 31 March.
1r:2
I hear from home that you’re also thinking of stopping in Etten in the course of your trip.2 When are you leaving?
I hope I’ll get the chance to send you the Longfellow before you leave. It might be a good book to take along.
My time here is running out awfully fast, less than three weeks to go now. Meekness and longsuffering3 are also in my thoughts sometimes, every now and then.
Aunt Cornelie4 gave me a nice book to read, ‘Kenelm Chillingly’ by Bulwer.5 There’s much that’s beautiful in it. It’s about the fate of the son of a rich Englishman who can find no rest or peace among his peers and goes to seek it in other circles.
He nonetheless ends up returning to his own class, but doesn’t regret what he did.
And now, adieu, have a good trip, I wish you well and hope you see many beautiful things, in case you leave before my next letter arrives. Ever,