Some of these features are only visible when "plain text" is off.
Textual Feature | Appearance |
---|---|
passage deleted with a strikethrough mark | |
passage deleted by overwritten added letters | |
passage added above the line | passage with added text above |
passage added on the line | passage with added text inline |
passage added in the margin | passage with text added in margin |
handwritten addition to a typewritten letter | typed passage with added handwritten text |
missing or unreadable text | missing text noted with "[illegible]" |
uncertain transcriptions | word[?] |
notes written by someone other than Willa Cather | Note in another's hand |
printed letterhead text | printed text |
text printed on postcards, envelopes, etc. | printed text |
text of date and place stamps | stamped text |
passage written by Cather on separate enclosure. | written text |
I have just got back from a little motor trip to find your wonderful letter awaiting me. I don't know when anything has pleased me so much as the thought—(the overwhelming proof, indeed!) that you would like me for a neighbor. Oh how I wish I could take the next train for Portage3!
A few weeks after I dined with you in New
York4 last winter, my mother5
had a stroke in California6 where she was
visiting my brother7. Since then I have lived
chiefly on various trans-continental railroads. My mother is completely paralyzed
on
her right side and almost speechless. My sister8 and brother are with her all the time, she has every care and
attention in the world, but when she wants me and begins to fret, I simply have to
go. I last left her in June, to come East and take a degree
from Yale9, since then I have ben
been at my little cottage on Grand Manan island10, off the coast of New Brunswick11, getting rested and even getting a little work done.
But at any time now I may have to start off on the long trail for Pasadena12—certainly before Christmas. I will be
here—it's a lovely place—a few weeks longer, then go to New York to attend to
business matters before I start West. So you see, for all your kindness, a happy
working winter in your father13's home is as
much out of my power as a winter on another planet. But I'll always keep the picture
of it, it looks so spacious and high-minded and really American. (Oh the good
American things are so good!) Perhaps after I get back
to New York I might see some way to drop down in Portage either before or after
California. I'll write you what the outlook is when I get back to town—and you may
be in New York yourself in November.
No, I hadn't heard of your father's death—you were telling me a good deal about him that evening at the Gotham, and he was then very well. Those who get out of the world quickly, as your father and mine14 did, are the favorites of Fate. An illness like my mother's takes the courage out of one.
But, som do you know, I have a feeling that sometime
I'll get to Portage, for a few months, anyway. The thought that you'd like to have
me there, in a home so dear to you, would make me feel a reason for being there, and
I'd try to live up to the house,—which, as I say, looks singularly high-minded.
Someday, when I'm less in disgrace with
Fortune15, I'm going to get there.
I'll write you from New York, and will be, probably, at The Grosvenor16, 35 Fifth Ave., but Knopf is the safest address. Knopf17 hasn't sent me your new book18 yet, confound him,—but he will. I expect I've been jumping about too much.
Dear Lady, at a time when I am low in mind, your letter gives me cheer and hope.
Faithfully yours, Willa Cather