.

* * * * *

Forgive pencil, dear--I'm in bed. Got rid of my throat--and now all my
"body and bones" seem to have given way, I thought it was lumbago or
sciatica--but Rex said--"Simply nerve exhaustion from over-writing"--so
I took to bed (for I couldn't walk!), high living and quinine! I hope
I'll soon be round again. The vile body is a nuisance. I've got a story
in my head--and that seems to take the vital force out of my legs!!!

Apropos to Richard's _Churchwarden's_ conscience, does he remember the
(possibly churchwarden!) "soul long hovering in fear and doubt"--in A
Kempis, who prostrated himself in prayer and groaned--"Oh if I only
_knew that I should persevere_!" To whom came the answer of God--"If
thou _didst_ know it, what wouldst thou do then? Continue to _do that_
and thou shalt be safe."

His letter and yours were _very_ comforting. I was just feeling very
low about my writing. I always do when I have to re-read for new
editions! It does seem such twaddle--and so unlike what I want to say!

Thank you greatly for believing in me!

* * * * *

Your loving, J.H.E.

TO MRS. HOWARD.

_Villa Ponente, Taunton._
Jan. 18, 1884.

MY DEAR MRS. HOWARD,

In this Green Winter (and _you_ know how I love a Green Winter!) you
and all your kindness comes back so often to my mind. "Grenoside" is a
closed leaf in my life as well as in yours, but it is one that I shall
never forget so long as I can remember any of the things that have
mitigated the pains of life for me, or added to its pleasures!--The
bits of Green Winter I enjoyed with you did both--I hardly know which
the most! For the pleasure was very great, and the benefit
immeasurable--though now a fair amount of strength and "all my
faculties" have come back to me, I feel what a very tedious companion
I must have been when _vegetating_ was all I was fit for, and I did
such delightful vegetating between your sofa--and Greno Wood.

I want to tell you that I have some bits of you in what does the work
of Greno Wood for me here--namely, my little patch of garden, looking
out upon, what I call _my_ big fields. For some time I feared the said
bits were not going to live, but they have now, I really think, got
grip of the ground. They are those offshoots of your American Bramble
which you gave to me. And, ere long, I hope to sow a little paper of
your poppy seed, and--if two years' keeping has not