MY DEAREST FRIEND,
Although my complaint has no danger attending it, yet it resists the medicines which Dr. Baird has prescribed; and, I fancy, it has pulled me down very much.
The cold has settled in my bowels. I wish the Admiralty had my complaint: but, they have no bowels; at least, for me.
I had a very indifferent night, but your and Sir William's kind letters have made me feel better.
I send you a letter from Lord Pelham. I shall certainly attend; and let them see, that I may be useful in council as I have been in the field. We must submit; and, perhaps, these Admiralty do this by me, to prevent another application.
You may rely, that I shall be with you by dinner, on Friday; at half past three, or four at farthest.
I shall not dine with Pitt, as Mr. and Mrs. Long are staying there.
Not that I ever saw her in my life, nor care if I never do.
I pray that I may not be annoyed, on my arrival: it is retirement with my friends, that I wish for.
Thank Sir William, kindly, for his letter; and the inclosure, which I return.
Sutton is much pleased with your letter; and, with Bedford, will certainly make you a visit. They are both truly good and kind to me.
Our weather has been cold these two days, but not bad. I have got a fire in the cabin; and, I hope my complaint will go off.
May Heaven bless you!
I send this, through Troubridge, direct in Piccadilly.
I shall, you may rely, admire the pig-stye, ducks, fowls, &c. for every thing you do, I look upon as perfect.
Dr. Baird has been aboard, to see me. He thinks, I shall be better; and, that a few days on shore will set me up again.
Make my kind remembrances to Sir William, the Duke, and all friends; and believe me, ever, your most affectionate
NELSON & BRONTE.
Bedford has made me laugh. Mrs. Lutwidge has been babbling, that she will go to Portsmouth with the Admiral; who says, he shall be so fully employed that he cannot be much with her. She whispered Bedford—"I have many friends in the army there!"
She will certainly marry a soldier, if ever she is disposable. But, perhaps, you will agree with me, that no good soldier would take her. I am sure, the purchase would be dear, even if it was a gift. Don't call this a bull.
Sutton's man was on the farm; and the sheep, when not belonging to the farm, always paid so much sheep, so much lambs: but, I dare say, you manage well.
Sir William's letter has delighted me, with your activity and prudence.