[Postmark: May 16, 1846]
Saturday.
Then, dearest-dearest, do take Mrs. Jameson’s advice — do
take care of the results of this fatigue— why should you see
any woman that pleases to ask to come ? I am certain that
some of the men you have refused to admit, would be more
considerate — and Miss Heaton must be a kind of fool into
the bargain with her inconsiderateness . . though that is the
folly’s very self. As for her ‘ Yorkshire Tragedy,’ I hold
myself rather aggrieved by it — they used to get up better
stories of Lord Byron, — and even I told you, anticipatingly,
that I caused that first wife of mine to drown and hang
herself . . whereas, now, it turns out she did neither, but
bade me do both . . nay, was not my wife after all ! I
hope she told Miss Heaton the story in the presence of the
husband who had no irreligious scruples. But enough of
this pure nonsense — I had, by this post that brings me your
last letter, one from Home — he leaves to-day for Ireland,
and says kind things about my plays — and unkind things
of Mr. Powell ‘a dog he repudiates for ever.’ So our
‘clique ‘ is deprived of yet another member !
For me, love, — I am pretty well — but rather out of
spirits, — for no earthly cause. I shall take a walk and get
better presently— your dear letters have their due effect, all
that effect !
So, dear, — all my world, my life, all I look to or live
for, my own Ba — I will bless you and bid you goodbye for
to-day — to-morrow I will write more — and on Monday —
return, my Ba, this kiss . . my dearest above all dearness !