ages. But
yesterday it was so wonderfully warm, and I so strong besides--it was
a feat worthy of the day--and I surprised them all as much as if I had
walked out of the window instead. That kind dear Stormie, who with all
his shyness and awkwardness has the most loving of hearts in him, said
that he was '_so_ glad to see me'!

Well!--setting aside the glory of it, it would have been as wise
perhaps if I had abstained; our damp detestable climate reaches us
otherwise than by cold, and I am not quite as well as usual this
morning after an uncomfortable feverish night--not very unwell, mind,
nor unwell at all in the least degree of consequence--and I tell you,
only to show how susceptible I really am still, though 'scarcely an
invalid,' say the complimenters.

What a way I am from your letter--that letter--or seem to be
rather--for one may think of one thing and yet go on writing
distrustedly of other things. So you are 'grateful' to my sisters ...
_you_! Now I beseech you not to talk such extravagances; I mean such
extravagances as words like these _imply_--and there are far worse
words than these, in the letter ... such as I need not put my finger
on; words which are sense on my lips, but no sense at all on yours,
and which make me disquietedly sure that you are under an illusion.
Observe!--_certainly_ I should not choose to have a '_claim_,' see!
Only, what I object to, in 'illusions,' 'miracles,' and things of that
sort, is the want of continuity common to such. When Joshua caused the
sun to stand still, it was not for a year even!--Ungrateful, I am!

And 'pretty well' means 'not well' I am afraid--or I should be gladder
still of the new act. You will tell me on Tuesday what 'pretty well'
means, and if your mother is better--or I may have a letter
to-morrow--dearest! May God bless you!

To-morrow too, at half past three o'clock, how joyful I shall be that
my 'kind considerateness' decided not to receive you until Tuesday. My
very kind considerateness, which made me eat my dinner to-day!

Your own

BA.

A hundred letters I have, by this last, ... to set against Napoleon's
Hundred Days--did you know _that_?

So much better I am to-night: it was nothing but a little chill from
the damp--the fog, you see!

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

Monday Morning.