Dijon, July 29, 1846.

I hoped to find a letter from you here, but suppose you are enjoying yourself too much to think of writing to me. There was nothing for me at Bar either, which surprised and incensed me. Is it the fault of the mail, or is it yours? I had always believed the mails to be infallible. What are you doing, and where are you at this moment? I do not know, indeed, where to address this letter, so I am taking my chances in sending it to Paris. Write to me next in Paris, and then to Clermont-Ferrand.

I have seen many customs, many men, and many cities since I left you two weeks ago, and, like Ulysses, in my peregrinations I have encountered all sorts of annoyances. Each year I find provincial life more stupid and more unendurable. This time I have the blues, and see everything from a pessimistic stand-point, perhaps because you have neglected me so unmercifully. The only pleasant experience that I have had was in travelling through the dense forests in the Ardennes, and these reminded me of some other forests with pleasanter associations. I fear you seldom think of them.

As a finishing stroke, I have learned what frightful folly has been accomplished here by means of our money. Those who have been guilty of this are silly and virtuous heads of families, against whom I am obliged to hurl my thunderbolts of denunciation as a warning that they will probably die of starvation. This fierce vocation is most obnoxious to me. I need a letter from you to sweeten my temper.

Again I return to my subject. Why have you not written to me? I shall now be, I don’t know how long, without any word from you, for my itinerary is too unsettled to designate any stopping-places. To sum it all up, I see no reason why I should not be furious. In all probability you are perfectly contented where you are, and I have no expectation of seeing you before winter, when the Opera will draw you back to Paris.

Good-bye. When you desire to think of me, you shall see that I know how to be magnanimous. Do not send a letter to Privas, but to Clermont-Ferrand. I have just learned that I shall not be obliged to go to Privas. After leaving Clermont I shall go probably to Lyons, but you shall hear from me beforehand.