ary 1888, Stoddard was looking and feeling much better, and he decided to go East after allnot to the Adirondacks, which the Stevensons were in the process of leaving, but to New England.
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Although born in New York, Stoddard liked to think of himself as a child of New England; and when he received an invitation from his friend Theodore Vail to come to Boston Highlands for the summer, he accepted at once. Vail was the president of the Metropolitan Telephone and Telegraph Company of New York, a wealthy Presbyterian with a wife and a son recently graduated from Phillips Exeter Academy. Vail also enjoyed collecting books, paintings, and interesting people, and he promised Stoddard that there would be plenty of yachting that summer up and down the New England coast. For the next several months. Stoddard accompanied the Vails and their wealthy friends aboard the Norma as it sailed up Long Island Sound and over to Provincetown and along the Maine coast as far as Bar Harbor. Mrs. Vail and young Davis were planning a trip to Europe, and Stoddard was asked to be their traveling companionall expenses paid. H e could hardly refuse so generous an offer, even though he had come to regard Davis as "bloated, overgrown, ungainly, uninteresting and spoiled utterly." 16
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Before the mid-August sailing date, Stoddard was able to visit a great number of people in Boston, and he was especially delighted to meet someone to whom he had been writing for years. W. D. Howells was spending the summer with his family at Little Nahant in hopes that the salt air might restore the health of his daughter, Winifred, who was to die the next year. Wearing a new pair of his host's "Wigwam" slippers, which he was urged to keep as a souvenir, 17 Stoddard basked contentedly as Howells urged him to work on the San Francisco novel he had laid aside in Hawaii. This book should not be quite so airy as South-Sea Idyls, Howells advised. Stoddard should depict characters and settings drawn from ordinary life. But that was a problem for Stoddard. How acceptable, after all, would be the truth about a young man whose emotional life consisted of falling in love, time after time, with other young men? Nevertheless, Stoddard decided to sit down to work, and for a few days in August he wrote several pages every morning. But there was no completed manuscript for Howells to read until 1896, and the novel itself did not appear until 1993. 18
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The other person Stoddard wanted to see in Boston that summer was his old San Francisco friend, Theodore Dwight, who was now cataloguing papers for the Adams family in Quincy. Both men had been
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