Monday Morning.
[Post-mark, September 7, 1846.]
I had the greatest mind, when your letter came—(the most welcome of all letters—so much more than I could expect!)—to get up at once and be well in your dearest eyes or through them—but I checked myself and thought that I ought to be contented with one such a letter through whole long weeks of annoyance, instead of one day more.
I am delighted to know Flush is with you, if I am not. Did you remember my petition about him? But, dearest, it was very imprudent to go to those disgusting wretches yourself—they have had a pretty honour without knowing it!
Here I lie with a dizzy head—unable to read more than a page or two ... there is something in the unwonted position that tires me—but whenever the book is left off, I turn to the dark side of the room and see you, my very own Ba,—and so I am soon better and able to try again.
How hot, and thunder-like this oppressive air! And you who are affected by such weather? Tell me, my dearest dearest, all you can tell me—since the real lips and eyes are away.
Bless you, my beloved. Remember, I count upon seeing you on Wednesday at farthest.
Your own R.
E.B.B. to R.B.
Monday Night.
[Post-mark, September 8, 1846.]
How unwell you are, dearest beloved! Ah no! It is not ‘the position that tires you,’ it is the illness that incapacitates you. And you to think of getting up and coming here ... you! Now, for my sake, for both our sakes, you must and shall be patient and quiet, and remember how my thoughts are with you conjuring you continually to quiet. As to the reading, ... you see it makes you dizzy,—and to provoke that sensation cannot plainly be right: and you will be right always, will you not, for my sake, dearest of all? And for the coming here on Wednesday, ... no, no, I say again,—you ought not to do it, and you shall not: we will see how you are, later in the week; but for Wednesday, certainly no. That violent transition from the bed to the omnibus would be manifestly wrong. Also I can be quite satisfied without seeing you, if I may but hear of your being well again. I wonder to-day how yesterday I was impatient about not having seen you so long. Oh, be well, be well, dearest! There is no need of your being ill to prove to me how I love you entirely, how I love you only!