Saturday.
September 8, 1845.
I am in the greatest difficulty about the steamers. Will you think a little for me and tell me what is best to do? It appears that the direct Leghorn steamer will not sail on the third, and may not until the middle of October, and if forced to still further delay, which is possible, will not at all. One of my brothers has been to Mr. Andrews of St. Mary Axe and heard as much as this. What shall I do? The middle of October, say my sisters . . . and I half fear that it may prove so . . . is too late for me — to say nothing for the uncertainty which completes the difficulty.
On the 20th of September (on the other hand) sails the Malta vessel; and I hear that I may go in it to Gibraltar and find a French steamer there to proceed by. Is there an objection to this — except the change of steamers . . . repeated . . . for I must get down to Southampton — and the leaving England so soon? Is any better to be done? Do think for me a little. And now that the doing comes so near . . . and in this dead silence of Papa’s . . . it all seems impossible, . . . and I seem to see the stars constellating against me, and give it as my serious opinion to you that I shall not go. Now, mark.
But I have had the kindest of letters from dear Mr. Kenyon, urging it — .
Well — I have no time for writing any more — and this is only a note of business to bespeak your thoughts about the steamers. My wisdom looks back regretfully . . . only rather too late . . . on the Leghorn vessel of the third of September. It would have been wise if I had gone then.
May God bless you, dearest friend.
E.B.B.
But if your head turns still, . . . do you walk enough? Is there not fault in your not walking, by your own confession? Think of this first — and then, if you please, of the steamers.
So, till Monday! —