Edith Simcox, Autobiography, 7-9 November 1877
Title
Edith Simcox, Autobiography, 7-9 November 1877
Title
Edith Simcox, Autobiography, 7-9 November 1877
Sender
Edith Simcox
Recipient
U
Date(s)
- 1877-11-07–<br /> 1877-11-09
Place
London
Letter Content
Edith Simcox, Autobiography, 7-9 November 1877
MS: Bodleian. Extract published: McKenzie, pp. 90-91.
Wednesday 7 November 1877
November 7, 1877. My whole soul is a longing question. 382 I am going to see her. It rained this morning; now the sun is coming out. I feel as if that were a bad omen. She will be pre-engaged.
Friday 9 November 1877
I was ushered in without hesitation. They were together sitting reading; he was at the second day of a headache. I tried to say something easy -- that it was her fate not to get rid of me. She -- that it seemed rather hard on me on Sundays. I -- was she afraid of my poisoning Johnny's shirts? (Mr.
Lewes had invited me to come early on Sunday, before other people; but I only contrive to get a few minutes start of J.C.) which she seemed inclined to parry by saying many other people came. They had tried battledore and shuttlecock as a substitute for the exercise of lawn tennis which had done her so much good. He had had a letter from a young Cambridge man 383 who had dreamt so vividly and repeatedly that she was ill that he couldn't help writing to ask -- enclosing a directed card for reply "Only a dream" or something of the sort to prove that he wasn't in quest of an autograph. She said perhaps that would make me more charitable to menfolk. I protested I wasn't otherwise, and she said she had always owed me a grudge for not being grateful enough to the Italian officer who was kind to me when the train was snowed up beyond Foggia. She said unlike most people she believed I should have thought more of the adventure if a woman had been kind to me. I said I might have if I had had the opportunity of being kind to a woman. But that I had no prejudice whatever against man. He and she said as they have before that among chance acquaintances men are more appreciative and courteous to her than women. I said that I had found women kinder than men, which she was "glad to hear," as showing they could be kind to each other -- and I didn't explain either that I had always taken their kindness as a sign that I was half a man -- and they knew it; or that I thought it rather hard she should visit, as a fault, my constitutional want of charm for men.
I did not stay long and she only said -- Are you going so soon? I spent an hour afterwards in hunting for a book 384 she wanted in the Holborn bookstalls, then attended a Shirtmakers' Committee and walked home -- crossing Hyde Park for the first time in the dark. I have been very wretched since, and even more perplexed. Clearly she has nothing to say to me about the book; and it is hardly for me to open the subject now. I have seldom been more entirely at a loss what to do. I know they would be annoyed if I simply asked Tr'fcbner to withdraw the book when it had covered his expenses, and yet I daren't, and to tell the truth, hardly feel a wish to dare -- to ask her counsel again. It is not pride, because if I could ask, it would be more humbly than ever. I shall wait, dragging out useless days as heretofore till some irresistible impulse declares itself.
MS: Bodleian. Extract published: McKenzie, pp. 90-91.
Wednesday 7 November 1877
November 7, 1877. My whole soul is a longing question. 382 I am going to see her. It rained this morning; now the sun is coming out. I feel as if that were a bad omen. She will be pre-engaged.
Friday 9 November 1877
I was ushered in without hesitation. They were together sitting reading; he was at the second day of a headache. I tried to say something easy -- that it was her fate not to get rid of me. She -- that it seemed rather hard on me on Sundays. I -- was she afraid of my poisoning Johnny's shirts? (Mr.
Lewes had invited me to come early on Sunday, before other people; but I only contrive to get a few minutes start of J.C.) which she seemed inclined to parry by saying many other people came. They had tried battledore and shuttlecock as a substitute for the exercise of lawn tennis which had done her so much good. He had had a letter from a young Cambridge man 383 who had dreamt so vividly and repeatedly that she was ill that he couldn't help writing to ask -- enclosing a directed card for reply "Only a dream" or something of the sort to prove that he wasn't in quest of an autograph. She said perhaps that would make me more charitable to menfolk. I protested I wasn't otherwise, and she said she had always owed me a grudge for not being grateful enough to the Italian officer who was kind to me when the train was snowed up beyond Foggia. She said unlike most people she believed I should have thought more of the adventure if a woman had been kind to me. I said I might have if I had had the opportunity of being kind to a woman. But that I had no prejudice whatever against man. He and she said as they have before that among chance acquaintances men are more appreciative and courteous to her than women. I said that I had found women kinder than men, which she was "glad to hear," as showing they could be kind to each other -- and I didn't explain either that I had always taken their kindness as a sign that I was half a man -- and they knew it; or that I thought it rather hard she should visit, as a fault, my constitutional want of charm for men.
I did not stay long and she only said -- Are you going so soon? I spent an hour afterwards in hunting for a book 384 she wanted in the Holborn bookstalls, then attended a Shirtmakers' Committee and walked home -- crossing Hyde Park for the first time in the dark. I have been very wretched since, and even more perplexed. Clearly she has nothing to say to me about the book; and it is hardly for me to open the subject now. I have seldom been more entirely at a loss what to do. I know they would be annoyed if I simply asked Tr'fcbner to withdraw the book when it had covered his expenses, and yet I daren't, and to tell the truth, hardly feel a wish to dare -- to ask her counsel again. It is not pride, because if I could ask, it would be more humbly than ever. I shall wait, dragging out useless days as heretofore till some irresistible impulse declares itself.
Citation
Edith Simcox, Edith Simcox, Autobiography, 7-9 November 1877, Complete George Eliot Letters(2026), George Eliot Archive, edited by Beverley Park Rilett. https://GeorgeEliotArchive.org, Accessed September 7, 2026. https://georgeeliotarchive.org/items/show/91813