November 20 Tuesday –Grace King wrote to her sister May King McDowell of the excursion to New York with the Clemenses:

We made an early start Tuesday morning; took breakfast at 7:30. I got up four times after daylight, to see if I couldn’t begin to get ready. I never knew a morning so slow in getting to 7 oc. Mr & Mrs Clemens, Clara, Jean, and the German maid [Rosina (Rosa) Hay] were besides myself the party. We got a chair car — and New York is just far enough off from Hartford to have a good long confidential talk; and take a little nap. Mrs C is an easy napper, and availed herself of the opportunity but I was too excited. The Cranes, Mrs Clemens’ sister and brother in law, were expecting us at the “Murray Hill.” … The Clemens like it because it is so near the 42nd St Station — but for the price I am sure one could be better accommodated elsewhere. It is $7.50 a day, for a single person — but $10 — for two rooming together. Fortunately I roomed with Clara. As soon as we had eaten lunch, Mrs Clemens ordered a carriage & we drove to her dressmakers — a Madame Fogarty — 38, East 22d…. Mrs Clemens asked to see her pretty things — and you never in your life beheld a more superb collection of gowns and cloaks. The cheapest dress was about $250….

Mr Clemens was just putting on his coat — to receive Augustin Daly — whose card had just been sent up. The Cranes offered their rooms for the interview — as they are quite handsomely installed there. I seized my Ms — and we all went in a body to the Cranes — I, as you may imagine in a tremor. I was never more surprised in my life — that when a slouchily dressed, thin — most untheatrical looking person was introduced to me as “Mr Daly.” He has a literary look and a very artistic face. While we were all talking Will Gillette — who boards at the Murray Hill — passed by and seeing us all, through the open door, came in. Then I felt very dramatic indeed. Soon every body went away and left me with Mr Daly — and Mr Clemens who was chaperon. I had no difficulty in talking, and managed to remember what I had composed to say; Daly said that he was looking all the time for some one to write for his theatre; that he was tired of it himself — that a dramatic success paid better than any other literary venture — that he hoped I had made one in this — but if I had not, not to be discouraged; he himself had had five plays rejected right straight along, when he first commenced. He would see if “Monsieur Motte” were actable — then if it were adapted to his theatre he would take it; if he could not use it, he would advise me about what to do with it…. When I went to get a string and paper to do the Ms up in — I made Mrs Clemens come back with me — and we had a general good time all together. He [Daly] invited us to the theatre that night, and said he would wait for us at the door. As soon as he was gone, we started off in a carriage to call on the Howells — Mrs Clemens insisted that I should know them. They live on Stuyvesant square, in the third story of a flat. The janitor took our cards up — and reported that they were in; but after we had climbed up to the place we found that the janitor had made a mistake. A very lackadaisical young girl of about sixteen, clad in faded greens, received us, and said “that she was sorry — but nobody was in but herself. Mama was ill in bed. Papa was out shopping for something. Winnie was over in Philadelphia under the charge of Dr Weir Mitchell. Mrs Clemens, who never goes up stairs if she can avoid it, sank in an arm chair perfectly disgusted. Mr Clemens walked around the room, and looked at the pictures. I gazed about me in silence while Miss Mildred Howells went on in her languid voice giving her family news. She is a very pretty girl….

We took a good glass of wine when we got in the hotel again; and laid down until dinner time. Over the dinner, we naturally fell to discussing the episode, and criticising the selfishness of the girl for not running down stairs and explaining herself that no one was in. Mr Clemens, saying how distressed and mortified Howells would be when he heard of it. I raised my eyes and was just going to say “Why there he is now” — when Mrs Clemens saw him. I recognised him of course from his pictures. He sat with us during dinner. I found that he was every thing the Warners & Clemens had described. Unaffected, modest, but perfectly charming in conversation and manners. He and Mr Clemens laugh and talk together like two schoolboys. He was exceedingly pleasant and cordial to me. We went into our rooms after dinner — sent for the children, and until theatre time, were just as sociable and family-like as possible….

The performance at Daly’s was “The Lottery of Love” [footnoted as The Lottery of Life, a comedy by John Brougham] — a regular side splitting comedy. We had Daly’s own stage box — and Daly’s company, most of the time. Mr Clemens of course attracted great attention from the audience, and stage too. We could catch the actors and actresses casting side glances constantly in our direction [Bush 42-4 from Grace’s Nov. 22 letter to her sister May]. Note: Theodore and Susan L. Crane thus remained in New York at the Murray Hill for some weeks, Theo under the care of physicians since his stroke.