[Postmark: June 2, 1846]
Tuesday.
You understand, dearest beloved, all I could mean about
your sister’s coming here. Both I was afraid of not being
liked enough . . which was one reason, and none the less
reasonable because of your being ‘ infatuated ‘ . . (oh, that
is precisely the word to use, and indeed I never falter to
myself in the applying of it !) and I felt it to be impossible
for me to receive so near a relative of yours, your own only
sister, as I should another and a stranger. There would be
the need in me of being affectionate to your sister ! how
could I not ? and yet, how could I? Everything is at once
too near and too far — it is enough to make me tremble to
think of it — it did, when Mr. Kenyon made his proposition.
I would rather, ten times over, receive Queen Victoria and
all her court do you understand ? can you
misunderstand ? can you pretend to fancy, as you talked yesterday,
that the reluctance came from my having ‘ too many visitors,’
or from any of those common causes. Why, she is your
sister — and that was the cause of the reluctance. You will
not dare to turn it into a wrong against yourself.
Now I am going to ask you a question, dearest of mine,
and you will consider it carefully and examine your own
wishes in respect to it, before I have any answer. In fact
it is not necessary to treat of the subject of it at all at this
moment — we have a great deal of time before us. Still, I
want to know whether, upon reflection, you see it to be wise
and better for me to go to Italy with Miss Bayley, or with
any other person who may be willing to take me, (supposing
I should find such a plan possible) and that you should
follow with Mr. Chorley or alone, . . leaving other thoughts
for another year. Or if I find this scheme, as far as I am
concerned, impossible, shall we gain anything, do you think,
on any side of the question that you can see, by remaining
quietly as we are, you at New Cross, and I here, until next
year’s summer or autumn? Shall we be wiser, more
prudent, for any reason, or in any degree, by such a delay ?
It is the question I ask you — it is no proposal of mine,
understand — nor shall I tell you my own impression about
it. I have told you that I would do as you should decide,
and I will do that and no other. Only on that very account
it is the more necessary that you should decide well, and
according to the best lights of your own judgment and
reason.
I forgot to talk to you yesterday of your Statesmen
which I read with a peculiar sort of pleasure, coming and
going as I see you and miss you. There is no mistaking
your footsteps along the sands.
May God bless you, dear dearest ! Say how your head
is, and love me so much more than Machiavelli, as to spare
it from farther injury. It is not hard to think of you to-day
in this chair, where you were sitting yesterday — do you
think it is ?
Your own
Ba.