pleasure to you; you have not seen Fanny
Cage in comfort so long. I hope she represents and
remonstrates and reasons with you properly. Why
should you be living in dread of his marrying
somebody else? (Yet, how natural!) You did not
choose to have him yourself, why not allow him to
take comfort where he can? In your conscience you
_know_ that he could not bear a companion with a
more animated character. You cannot forget how you
felt under the idea of its having been possible
that he might have dined in Hans Place.

My dearest Fanny, I cannot bear you should be
unhappy about him. Think of his principles; think
of his father's objection, of want of money, &c.,
&c. But I am doing no good; no, all that I urge
against him will rather make you take his part
more, sweet, perverse Fanny.

And now I will tell you that we like your Henry to
the utmost, to the very top of the glass, quite
brimful. He is a very pleasing young man. I do not
see how he could be mended. He does really bid
fair to be everything his father and sister could
wish; and William I love very much indeed, and so
we do all; he is quite our own William. In short,
we are very comfortable together; that is, we can
answer for _ourselves_.

* * * * *

_Friday._--I had no idea when I began this
yesterday of sending it before your brother went
back, but I have written away my foolish thoughts
at such a rate that I will not keep them many
hours longer to stare me in the face.

* * * * *

Ben and Anna walked here last Sunday to hear Uncle
Henry, and she looked so pretty, it was quite a
pleasure to see her, so young and so blooming, and
so innocent.

* * * * *

Your objection to the quadrilles delighted me
exceedingly. Pretty well, for a lady irrecoverably
attached to _one_ person! Sweet Fanny, believe no
such thing of yourself, spread no such malicious
slander upon your understanding, within the
precincts of your imagination. Do not speak ill of
your sense mere