Mr. Kenyon has not been here, and I have nothing, nothing, to tell you. The east wind has kept guard at the door, so that I should not go out, ... and nothing has happened. I seem not to have drawn breath scarcely, since we parted. ‘Parted’—what a word! As if we could!—in the full sense!
I have written to Miss Bayley to ask her to come on any day except Saturday.
Shall the thirty-six Bas love you all together in that one Ba who is your own?
R.B. to E.B.B.
Wednesday.
[Post-mark, April 22, 1846.]
I never thought I should convince you, dearest—and I was foolish to write so, since it makes you reply so. At all events, I do not habitually offend in this kind—forty-nine days out of fifty I hear my own praises from your lips, and yet keep silence—on the fiftieth I protest gently—is that too much? Then I will be quiet altogether, my Ba, and get a comfort out of the consciousness of obedience there at least. But I should like some talking-bird to tell you the struggle there is and what I could say. Shall I idealize you into mere mist, Ba, and see the fine, fine, last of you? Well, I cannot even play with the fancy of that—so, one day, when so much is to be cleared up between us, look for a word or two on this matter also. Some savage speech about the ‘hand I was to have dropped’—the whole ending with the Promethean—Οὕτως ὑβρίζειν τοὺς ὑβρίζοντας χρέων. Meantime my revenge on the hand must be to kiss it—I kiss it.
Yesterday’s letters both arrived this morning by the 11½ post—was that right? I add my mite of savageness to the general treasury of wrath: every body is complaining. Still, so long as I do get my letters,—such letters!
The cold wind continues—you will have kept the room to-day no doubt—what colourless weather; not the moist fresh bright true April of old years! I shall go out presently—but with such an effort, such unwillingness! I am better however—and my mother still continues well—goes out every morning—so there is hope for everybody. I ought to tell you that I went to my doctor last evening—(remembering to whom I promised I would do so, if need were, or good seemed likely to follow)—and he speaks encouragingly and I have engaged to be obedient; perhaps, because he ordains no very intolerable laws. He says I am better than when he saw me last—and, as he wanted then to begin and prescribe, ... there is clearly a gain of about two months’ comfort!
Here strikes fatal four-o’clock! To-morrow for more writing; and now, for the never-ending love, and thought of my dearest dearest. May God bless you, Ba.
Your own——