Day: June 5, 2018

[Postmark: June 5, 1846]

Friday.

Nor did I mean so bad, dearest dearest, as that you
were suspecting me of that . . Oh no, since ‘ Scorn of me
that ” me “) would recoil on you ‘ . . you would have no
right to bear with such a person for a moment : but I put
the broadest case possible to declare upon broadly. As I
would do so if I felt so . . felt no love longer . . so, in due
degree, I would tell you frankly a fear or a doubt if I felt
either. I thought you suspected me, perhaps, of being
deficient in this last point of courage : but it was not altogether
so, — or if it was, you shall doubt no more, but believe
the more strongly for the future . . let us kiss on that convention,
dearest ! You see, I knew it could not but be
that . . for if anything had struck you as really to be
gained by delay, you must feel whether I should listen to
that or no— last year, for instance, when you said ‘ let us
wait.’

Ah, Ba, my own, many things are that ought not to be
. . and I hide nothing . . cannot hide from you some
feelings . . as that — after all, after all — talk, and indeed
think, as one may — it is, let us say, a pleasant thing, at
least, to be able to prove one’s words, — even one’s lighter
words. The proof may justify some words, I mean, and the
rest, that admit of no proof, get believed on the score of
them, — the first words and proofs. I should like to prove a
very, very little . . if I could but do so in turning fifty-
thousand a year, or less, to some account and building
Flush a house ‘ fair to see ‘ — after which I could go on
talking about the longings never to be satisfied here . .

Now this is foolish, — so the causeless blame, if you
please, shall be transferred here . . as naughty children
punished by mistake are promised a remission of next
offence.

Oh to-morrow kisses all right . . all so right again,
dearest ! I have so much to say. Make me remember,
love, to tell you something I have just learned about Mr.
Kenyon which makes one — no, all is proper, — he should
have the money, and I the admiration and love of his
divine use of it : something to love him for, and he happy
that God will reward it. Remember — for even that I should
forget by you !

And all has been charming at Mr. Kenyon’s — Landor’s
dinner, and our flower-show feast, — I will tell you to-morrow
— and last night I went to Mrs. Procter’s in downright
spirits ‘ pour cause ‘ (with my first letter . . not my second,
which only arrived this morning) — and I danced, to put it
on record there that I was altogether happy, and saw Mrs.
Jameson, and the Countess Hahn-Hahn, and Milnes and
the Howitts and others in a multitude, — and I got to this
house door at 4 o’clock, with the birds singing loud and
the day bright and broad — and my head is quite well, — as
my mother’s is better, I hope — quite well, I am at this
minute. For the rest, the news of your two exits and
entrances in one day . . oh, thank you, thank the golden
heart of my own, own Ba ! whom I shall see to-morrow,
but can . . how I can kiss her now — being her own

R.B.

[Postmark: June 5, 1846]

Thursday.

You are too perfect, too overcomingly good and tender
— dearest you are, and I have no words with which to answer
you. There is little wonder indeed that I, being used so
long to the dark, should stumble and mistake, and see men
like trees walking — and yet I must tell you that I did not
mistake to the extent you have set down for me . . and that
never was I so dull, so idiotic and ungrateful, as to fancy
you into one ‘ wishing to let me down gently with cowardly
excuses.’ Since I first looked you in the face, and before
that day, I have been incapable of defiling the idea of you
with such an unworthy imputation. And surely what I did
fancy, was consistent with the fullest faith in you and in the
completest verity of your affection for myself. You might
have had reasons, surely, which I did not see, without
aggrieving me in any fashion. So do not make me out too
stupid- it is bad enough actually. Yes — those questions
you refer to, turned me down that path— and do tell me
how I could be expected to guess at the real drift of them,
after having been accustomed to walk rather, with men than
with angels ! Ah —and now even, that I see, it makes me
smile and sigh together. To say that I am not worthy, all
at once grows too little to say. No one could be worthy of
such words from you. You are best, best ! ! How much
more do you want me to owe to you, when I begin owing
to you all things, . . the only happiness of my life?

As to Italy, I thought of it first, so I am in no danger of
thinking that you engage me as female courier and
companion . . the feminine of what Mr. Bezzi wants to be,
Miss Bayley told me to-day. So if it is the same thing to
you, we will put off Nova Zembla a little. But how is it
possible to jest, with this letter close by ? Dearest of all,
believe that I am grateful to you as I ought to be . .
penetrated . . touched to the bottom of my heart with the sense
of what you have been to me and are ; dearest beloved !

So do not reproach me with my dull questions, on
Saturday. I won’t ask them any more, . . and I did not
mean by them the wickedness you thought . . so now let
us be tranquil and happy till the fine weather ends. Brightly
it begins, does it not? So hot it is to-day — so very hot in
this room ! Miss Bayley came just as I had been out walking
and was tired ; but she talked and interested me, and I
found out from her that you were not in the gardens when
we drove round them, but in the house when I looked up at
the windows. Very happy and agreeable you all were, she
said, at Mr. Kenyon’s — though Mrs. Jameson missed the
flower-show.

I forgot to tell you that Treppy is a Creole — she would
say so as if she said she was a Roman. She lived, as an
adopted favourite, in the house of my great grandfather in
Jamaica for years, and talks to the delight of my brothers, of
that ‘ dear man ‘ who, with fifty thousand a year, wore
patches at his knees and elbows, upon principle. Then
there are infinite traditions of the great great grandfather,
who flogged his slaves like a divinity : and upon the
beatitude of the slaves as slaves, let no one presume to
doubt, before Treppy. If ever she sighs over the slaves, it
is to think of their emancipation. Poor creatures, to be
emancipated !

May God bless you, dear dearest ! Shall I ever be
better, I wonder, than the torment of your life ? It is I who
wanted to be ‘ justified,’ and not you my beloved, — except as
to your good sense for having made such a choice.

Such as I am however, I am

Your very own

Ba.