[Postmark: September 8, 1846]
Tuesday Morning.
Do you think your wishes, much less your blessings, fall to the ground, my own Ba ? Here is your letter, and here am I writing to you, ‘clothed and in my proper’ room.
My doctor bade me ‘ get up and do as I pleased ‘ – and the perfect pleasure is to say, I may indeed see you to-morrow, dearest, dearest ! Can you look as you look in this letter ? So entirely my own, and yet, – what should never be my own, by right . . such a treasure to one so little worthy !
I have only a few minutes to say this, – the dressing and talking having taken up the time. To-morrow shall repay me !
The lightness, slight uneasiness of the head, continues, though the general health is much better, it seems.
Do you doubt I shall be well in Italy? But I must leave off. Bless you as you have blessed me, my best, dearest Ba, me who am your very own R.