Ever yours,
Mathilde Blind.
Box Hill (Dorking),
Feb. 13, 1888.
Dear Mr. Sharp,
I have read your book on Shelley, and prefer it, matched with the bulky. Putting out of view Matthew Arnold’s very lofty lift of superterrestrial nose over the Godwin nest, one inclines to agree with him about our mortal business of Shelley. We shall be coming next to medical testimony, with expositions. You have said just enough, and in the right tones. Yesterday a detachment of the Sunday tramps under Leslie Stephen squeezed at the table in the small dining-room you know, after a splendid walk over chalk and sand. When you are in the mood to make one of us, give me note of warning, and add to the pleasure by persuading your wife to come with you.
And tell her that this invitation would be more courtly were I addressing her directly.
I am,
Very truly yours,
George Meredith.