To Rosamond Thomas Bennett Sturgis
Via Santo Stefano Rotondo, 6
Rome. January 7, 1948
Your astonishing flowers came on Christmas eve, and for a moment seeing such profusion of roses and double carnations, I thought of sending them to the Chapel, where they would have on their five altars that night and the next morning a long series of Masses; for each priest on that occasion says three. But on second thoughts I selfishly kept them for my own decoration, because if I had sent them to the Chapel the whole Community would have begun to whisper that I was converted at last and they would have spread all sorts of rumours, which might even have got into The Rome Daily American, where one of the editors is a friend of mine, and thence would have flooded America with proofs that my wits were turned, and my whole philosophy invalidated as being that of a Jesuit in Disguise. Whether these fears were grounded or not, I can’t say; but the flowers meantime made a great show in my small room, and some of them lasted in good condition until New Year’s.
The box with mayonnaise, marmalade coffee, raisin buiscuits, glycerine soap, etc., has arrived also, and will be duly appreciated as the contents reappear gradually from Sister Angela’s pantry. But as I think I have written before, you mustn’t feel obliged to keep me in stock of all these things, because if I am really short of anything I can now order it, through an arrangement with Mr Wheelock of Scribner’s, from the “Vendome” grocery in New York, who send me as it is a regular monthly parcel with tea, coffee, cocoa and buiscuits, and I see by a list of delicacies they have sent me that they can also provide “bitter-sweet orange marmelade,” which is precisely the sort of “jam” that I prefer. However, I don’t mean to discourage your good habits; and if at any time you feel like sending me something there is a small but precious thing that I can’t yet get here again namely “Vapex,” which gives me pleasure and apparent relief whenever my catarrh threatens to become a cold in the head. Ordinarily my nose and eyes are quite dry, and it is only from the throat that I have to clear away the nasty sticky stuff. My doctor gives me preventive injections and a syrup called Bronchiolina which brings relief, although not immediately. But innocent girlish Vapex is an immediate help, and pleasanter than any scent I know of.
From The Letters of George Santayana: Book Eight, 1948-1952. Cambridge, MA: The MIT Press, 2008.
Location of manuscript: The Houghton Library, Harvard University, Cambridge MA.