wing that his
lord did but jest....

Which mine did not. Only, _de te fabula narratur_ up to a point.

And I have your letter. 'What did I expect?' Why I expected just
_that_, a letter in turn. Also I am graciously pleased (yes, and very
much pleased!) to '_let_ you write to-morrow.' How you spoil me with
goodness, which makes one 'insolent' as I was saying, now and then.

The worst is, that I write 'too kind' letters--I!--and what does that
criticism mean, pray? It reminds me, at least, of ... now I will tell
you what it reminds me of.

A few days ago Henrietta said to me that she was quite uncomfortable.
She had written to somebody a not kind enough letter, she thought, and
it might be taken ill. 'Are _you_ ever uncomfortable, Ba, after you
have sent letters to the post?' she asked me.

'Yes,' I said, 'sometimes, but from a reason just the very reverse of
your reason, _my_ letters, when they get into the post, seem too
kind,--rather.' And my sisters laughed ... laughed.

But if _you_ think so beside, I must seriously set to work, you see,
to correct that flagrant fault, and shall do better in time _dis
faventibus_, though it will be difficult.

Mr. Kenyon's dinner is a riddle which I cannot read. _You_ are
invited to meet Miss Thomson and Mr. Bayley and '_no one else_.'
George is invited to meet Mr. Browning and Mr. Procter and '_no one
else_'--just those words. The '_absolu_' (do you remember Balzac's
beautiful story?) is just _you_ and 'no one else,' the other elements
being mere uncertainties, shifting while one looks for them.

Am I not writing nonsense to-night? I am not 'too _wise_' in any case,
which is some comfort. It puts one in spirits to hear of your being
'well,' ever and ever dearest. Keep so for _me_. May God bless you
hour by hour. In every one of mine I am your own

BA.

For Miss Mitford ...

But people are not angels quite ...

and she sees the whole world in stripes of black and white, it is her
way. I feel very affectionately towards her, love her sincerely. She
is affectionate to _me_ beyond measure. Still, always I feel that if I
were to vex her, the lower deep below the lowest deep would not be low
enough for _me_. I always feel _that_. She would advertise me directly
for a wretch proper.

Then, for all I said about never changing, I have ice enough over me
just now to hold the sparrows!--in respect to a great crowd of