the special work you are called to, for that which is work for
anybody. I am not so ignorant of the right uses and destinies of what
you have and are. You will leave the Solicitor-Generalships to the
Fitzroy Kellys, and justify your own nature; and besides, do me the
little right, (_over_ the _over_-right you are always doing me) of
believing that I would not bear or dare to do _you_ so much wrong, if
I were in the position to do it.

And for all the rest I thank you--believe that I thank you ... and
that the feeling is not so weak as the word. That _you_ should care at
all for _me_ has been a matter of unaffected wonder to me from the
first hour until now--and I cannot help the pain I feel sometimes, in
thinking that it would have been better for you if you never had known
me. May God turn back the evil of me! Certainly I admit that I cannot
expect you ... just at this moment, ... to say more than you say, ...
and I shall try to be at ease in the consideration that you are as
accessible to the 'unicorn' now as you ever could be at any former
period of your life. And here I have done. I had done _living_, I
thought, when you came and sought me out! and why? and to what end?
_That_, I cannot help thinking now. Perhaps just that I may pray for
you--which were a sufficient end. If you come on Saturday I trust you
to leave this subject untouched,--as it must be indeed henceforth.

I am yours,

E.B.B.

No word more of Pisa--I shall not go, I think.

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

[Post-mark, September 18, 1845.]

Words!--it was written I should hate and never use them to any
purpose. I will not say one word here--very well knowing neither word
nor deed avails--from me.

My letter will have reassured you on the point you seem undecided
about--whether I would speak &c.

I will come whenever you shall signify that I may ... whenever, acting
in my best interests, you feel that it will not hurt you (weary you in
any way) to see me--but I fear that on Saturday I must be
otherwhere--I enclose the letter from my old foe. Which could not but
melt me for all my moroseness and I can hardly go and return for my
sister in time. Will you tell me?

It is dark--but I want to save the post--

Ever yours