thanking you for your most affectionate concern
for me during my illness than by telling you
myself, as soon as possible, that I continue to
get better. I will not boast of my handwriting;
neither that nor my face have yet recovered their
proper beauty, but in other respects I am gaining
strength very fast. I am now out of bed from 9 in
the morning to 10 at night: upon the sopha, 'tis
true, but I eat my meals with aunt Cass in a
rational way, and can employ myself, and walk from
one room to another. Mr. Lyford says he will cure
me, and if he fails, I shall draw up a memorial
and lay it before the Dean and Chapter, and have
no doubt of redress from that pious, learned, and
disinterested body. Our lodgings are very
comfortable. We have a neat little drawing-room
with a bow window overlooking Dr. Gabell's garden.
Thanks to the kindness of your father and mother
in sending me their carriage, my journey hither on
Saturday was performed with very little fatigue,
and had it been a fine day, I think I should have
felt none; but it distressed me to see uncle Henry
and Wm. Knight, who kindly attended us on
horseback, riding in the rain almost all the way.
We expect a visit from them to-morrow, and hope
they will stay the night; and on Thursday, which
is Confirmation and a holiday, we are to get
Charles out to breakfast. We have had but one
visit yet from _him_, poor fellow, as he is in
sick-room, but he hopes to be out to-night. We see
Mrs. Heathcote every day, and William is to call
upon us soon. God bless you, my dear Edward. If
ever you are ill, may you be as tenderly nursed as
I have been. May the same blessed alleviations of
anxious, sympathising friends be yours: and may
you possess, as I dare say you will, the greatest
blessing of all in the consciousness of not being
unworthy of their love. _I_ could not feel this.

Your very affec^{te} Aunt,
J. A.

Had I not engaged to write to you, you would have
heard again from your Aunt Martha, as she ch