libation of it, in consequence. My sisters said of
the roses you blasphemed, yesterday, that they 'never saw such flowers
anywhere--anywhere here in London--' and therefore if I had thought so
myself before, it was not so wrong of me. I put your roses, you see,
against my letter, to make it seem less dull--and yet I do not forget
what you say about caring to hear from me--I mean, I do not _affect_
to forget it.

May God bless you, far longer than I can say so.

E.B.B.

_R.B. to E.B.B._

Sunday Evening.
[Post-mark, August 4, 1845.]

I said what you comment on, about Mr. Kenyon, because I feel I _must_
always tell you the simple truth--and not being quite at liberty to
communicate the whole story (though it would at once clear me from the
charge of over-curiosity ... if I much cared for _that_!)--I made my
first request in order to prevent your getting at any part of it from
_him_ which should make my withholding seem disingenuous for the
moment--that is, till my explanation came, if it had an opportunity of
coming. And then, when I fancied you were misunderstanding the reason
of that request--and supposing I was ambitious of making a higher
figure in _his_ eyes than your own,--I then felt it 'on my mind' and
so spoke ... a natural mode of relief surely! For, dear friend, I have
_once_ been _untrue_ to you--when, and how, and why, you know--but I
thought it pedantry and worse to hold by my words and increase their
fault. You have forgiven me that one mistake, and I only refer to it
now because if you should ever make _that_ a precedent, and put any
least, most trivial word of mine under the same category, you would
wrong me as you never wronged human being:--and that is done with. For
the other matter,--the talk of my visits, it is impossible that any
hint of them can ooze out of the only three persons in the world to
whom I ever speak of them--my father, mother and sister--to whom my
appreciation of your works is no novelty since some years, and whom I
made comprehend exactly your position and the necessity for the
absolute silence I enjoined respecting the permission to see you. You
may depend on them,--and Miss Mitford is in your keeping, mind,--and
dear Mr. Kenyon, if there should be never so gentle a touch of
'garrulous God-innocence' about those kind lips of his. Come, let me
snatch at _tha