Since you left me I have been making up my mind to your having the headache worse than ever, through the agreement with Moxon. I do, do beseech you to spare yourself, and let 'Luria' go as he is, and above all things not to care for my infinite foolishnesses as you see them in those notes. Remember that if you are ill, it is not so easy to say, 'Now I will be well again.' Ever dearest, care for me in yourself—say how you are.... I am not unwell to-day, but feel flagged and weak rather with the cold ... and look at your flowers for courage and an assurance that the summer is within hearing. May God bless you ... blessing us, beloved!
Your own
Ba.
Mr. Poe has sent me his poems and tales—so now I must write to thank him for his dedication. Just now I have the book. As to Mr. Buckingham, he will go, Constantinople and back, before we talk of him.
R.B. to E.B.B.
Saturday Morning.
[Post-mark, March 21, 1846.]
Dearest,—it just strikes me that I might by some chance be kept in town this morning—(having to go to Milnes' breakfast there)—so as not to find the note I venture to expect, in time for an answer by our last post to-night. But I will try—this only is a precaution against the possibility. Dear, dear Ba! I cannot thank you, know not how to thank you for the notes! I adopt every one, of course, not as Ba's notes but as Miss Barrett's, not as Miss Barrett's but as anybody's, everybody's—such incontestable improvements they suggest. When shall I tell you more ... on Monday or Tuesday? That I must know—because you appointed Monday, 'if nothing happened—' and Mr. K. happened—can you let me hear by our early post to-morrow—as on Monday I am to be with Moxon early, you know—and no letters arrive before 11-1/2 or 12. I was not very well yesterday, but to-day am much better—and you,—I say how I am precisely to have a double right to know all about you, dearest, in this snow and cold! How do you bear it? And Mr. K. spoke of 'that being your worst day.' Oh, dear dearest Ba, remember how I live in you—on the hopes, with the memory of you. Bless you ever!
R.
E.B.B. to R.B.
[Post-mark, March 21, 1846.]