Your friend always,

E.B.B.

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

Friday Morning.
[Post-mark, June 27, 1845.]

Let me make haste and write down _To-morrow_, Saturday, and not later,
lest my selfishness be thoroughly got under in its struggle with a
better feeling that tells me you must be far too tired for another
visitor this week.

What shall I decide on?

Well--Saturday is said--but I will stay not quite so long, nor talk
nearly so loud as of old-times; nor will you, if you understand
anything of me, fail to send down word should you be at all
indisposed. I should not have the heart to knock at the door unless I
really believed you would do that. Still saying this and providing
against the other does not amount, I well know, to the generosity, or
justice rather, of staying away for a day or two altogether. But--what
'a day or two' may not bring forth! Change to you, change to me--

Not all of me, however, can change, thank God--

Yours ever

R.B.

Or, write, as last night, if needs be: Monday, Tuesday is not so long
to wait. Will you write?

_E.B.B. to R.B._

Friday Evening.
[Post-mark, June 28, 1845.]

You are very kind and always--but really _that_ does not seem a good
reason against your coming to-morrow--so come, if it should not rain.
If it rains, it _concludes_ for Monday ... or Tuesday; whichever may
be clear of rain. I was tired on Wednesday by the confounding
confusion of more voices than usual in this room; but the effect
passed off, and though Miss Mitford was with me for hours yesterday I
am not unwell to-day. And pray speak _bona verba_ about the awful
things which are possible between this now and Wednesday. You continue
to be better, I do hope? I am forced to the brevity you see, by the
post on one side, and my friends on the other, who have so long
overstayed the coming of your note--but it is enough to assure you
that you will do no harm by coming--only give pleasure.

Ever yours, my dear friend,

E.B.B.

_E.B.B. to R.B._

Monday.