Saturday 4. p.m.
[Post-mark, December 27, 1845.]
I was forced to leave off abruptly on Christmas Morning—and now I have but a few minutes before our inexorable post leaves. I hoped to return from Town earlier. But I can say something—and Monday will make amends.
'For ever' and for ever I do love you, dearest—love you with my whole heart—in life, in death—
Yes; I did go to Mr. Kenyon's—who had a little to forgive in my slack justice to his good dinner, but was for the rest his own kind self—and I went, also, to Moxon's—who said something about my number's going off 'rather heavily'—so let it!
Too good, too, too indulgent you are, my own Ba, to 'acts' first or last; but all the same, I am glad and encouraged. Let me get done with these, and better things will follow.
Now, bless you, ever, my sweetest—I have you ever in my thoughts—And on Monday, remember, I am to see you.
Your own R.B.
See what I cut out of a Cambridge Advertiser[24] of the 24th—to make you laugh!
E.B.B. to R.B.
Saturday.
[Post-mark, December 27, 1845.]