<p>Monday Morning.<br>
[In the same envelope with the preceding letter.]
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<p> This arrived on Saturday night - - I just correct it in time for this our first post - - will it do, the new matter? I can take it to-morrow - - when I am to see you - - if you are able to glance through it by then.
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<p> The ‘Inscription,’ how does that read?
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<p> There is strange temptation, by the way, in the space they please to leave for the presumable ‘motto’ - - ‘they but remind me of mine own conception’ . . . but one must give no clue, of a silk’s breadth, to the ‘<span>Bower</span>,’ <span>yet</span>, One day!
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<p> - - Which God send you, dearest, and your
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<p>R.B.
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#133
Saturday.
October 18, 1845.
I must not go on tearing these poor sheets one after the other, – – the proper phrases will not come, – – so let them stay, while you care for my best interests in their best, only way, and say for me what I would say if I could – – dearest, – – say it, as I feel it!
I am thankful to hear of the continued improvement of your brother. So may it continue with him! Pulses I know very little about – – Continue reading “#133”