t post--will it do, the new matter? I can take it to-morrow--when
I am to see you--if you are able to glance through it by then.

The 'Inscription,' how does that read?

There is strange temptation, by the way, in the space they please to
leave for the presumable 'motto'--'they but remind me of mine own
conception' ... but one must give no clue, of a silk's breadth, to the
'_Bower_,' _yet_, One day!

--Which God send you, dearest, and your

R.B.

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

[Post-mark, October 22, 1845.]

Even at the risk of teazing you a little I must say a few words, that
there may be no misunderstanding between us--and this, before I sleep
to-night. To-day and before to-day you surprised me by your manner of
receiving my remark about your visits, for I believed I had
sufficiently made clear to you long ago how certain questions were
ordered in this house and how no exception was to be expected for my
sake or even for yours. Surely I told you this quite plainly long ago.
I only meant to say in my last letter, in the same track ... (fearing
in the case of your wishing to come oftener that you might think it
unkind in me not to seem to wish the same) ... that if you came too
often and it was _observed_, difficulties and vexations would follow
as a matter of course, and it would be wise therefore to run no risk.
That was the head and front of what I meant to say. The weekly one
visit is a thing established and may go on as long as you please--and
there is no objection to your coming twice a week _now_ and _then_ ...
if now and then merely ... if there is no habit ... do you understand?
I may be prudent in an extreme perhaps--and certainly everybody in the
house is not equally prudent!--but I did shrink from running any risk
with that calm and comfort of the winter as it seemed to come on. And
was it more than I said about the cloak? was there any newness in it?
anything to startle you? Still I do perfectly see that whether new or
old, what it _involves_ may well be unpleasant to you--and that
(however old) it may be apt to recur to your mind with a new
increasing unpleasantness. We have both been carried too far perhaps,
by late events and impulses--but it is never too late to come back to
a right place, and I for my part come back to mine, and entreat you my
dearest friend, first, _not to answer this_, and next, to weigh and
consider