There are much more beautiful flowers in the meadows of this
country than in ours, but nobody cares for them. I am sure that you and my
mamma Margaret will be better pleased with this bag of seeds, than you were
with the bag of piastres, which was the cause of our separation and of my
tears. It will give me great delight if you should one day see apple-trees
growing at the side of the plantain, and elms blending their foliage with
our cocoa-trees. You will fancy yourself in Normandy, which you love so
much.
"'You desired me to relate to you my joys and my griefs. I have no joys far
from you. As for my griefs, I endeavour to soothe them by reflecting that I
am in the situation in which you placed me by the will of God. But my
greatest affliction is, that no one here speaks to me of you, and that I
must speak of you to no one. My waiting women, or rather those of my aunt,
for they belong more to her than to me, told me the other day, when I
wished to turn the conversation upon the objects most dear to me,
'Remember, madam, that you are a Frenchwoman, and must forget that country
of savages.' Ah! sooner will I forget myself than forget the spot on which
I was born, and which you inhabit! It is this country which is to me a land
of savages; for I live alone, having no one to whom I can impart, those
feelings of tenderness for you which I shall bear with me to the grave.
'I am,
'My dearest and beloved mother,
'Your affectionate and dutiful daughter,
'VIRGINIA DE LA TOUR.
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