CHAPTER XI
A JOURNALIST, A LECTURER, A PLAYWRIGHT
1810-1813
CHAPTER XI
A JOURNALIST, A LECTURER, A PLAYWRIGHT
1810-1813
CLXXIX. TO HIS WIFE.
Spring, 1810.
My dear Love,—I understand that Mr. De Quincey is going to Keswick to-morrow; though between ourselves he is as great a to-morrower to the full as your poor husband, and without his excuses of anxiety from latent disease and external pressure.
Now as Lieutenant Southey is with you, I fear that you could not find a bed for me if I came in on Monday or Tuesday. I not only am desirous to be with you and Sara for a while, but it would be of great importance to me to be within a post of Penrith for the next fortnight or three weeks. How long Mr. De Quincey may stay I cannot guess. He (Miss Wordsworth says) talks of a week, but Lloyd of a month! However, put yourself to no violence of inconvenience, only be sure to write to me (N. B.—to me) by the carrier to-morrow.
I am middling, but the state of my spirit of itself requires a change of scene. Catherine W. [the Wordsworths’ little daughter] has not recovered the use of her arm, etc., but is evidently recovering it, and in all other respects in better health than before,—indeed, so much better as to confirm my former opinion that nature was weak in her, and can more easily supply vital power for two thirds of her nervous system than for the whole.