unless some
agreement takes place between the proprietors. In the meantime, the
lawyers have advised our party to appeal from the decision of the
Vice-Chancellor. Amid all this perplexity and trouble, we have had
the satisfaction of hearing that John and Henry are both doing
well; we received a letter from the latter a short time ago, full
of affection and kindness to us all. I wish you could have seen my
father's countenance as he read it, and with what fondness and
almost gratitude he kissed dear Henry's name, while the tears were
standing in his eyes. I can not help thinking sometimes that my
father deserved a less hard and toilsome existence.

He has resolved that, come what may, he will keep those boys at
their respective schools, if he can by any means compass it; and if
(which I fear is the case) he finds Bury St. Edmunds too expensive,
we shall remove to Westminster, in order that Henry's education may
not suffer from our circumstances. Last Thursday was my father's
benefit, and a very indifferent one, which I think is rather hard,
considering that he really slaves night and day, and every night
and every day, in that theater. Cecilia Siddons and I have opened a
poetical correspondence; she writes very prettily indeed. Perhaps,
had she not had such a bad subject as myself to treat of, I might
have said more of her verses. You will be sorry to hear that not
only my poor mother's health, but what is almost as precious, her
good spirits, have been dreadfully affected by all her anxiety;
indeed, her nerves have been so utterly deranged that she has been
alternately deaf and blind, and sometimes both, for the last
fortnight. Thank Heaven she is now recovering!

CRAVEN HILL, BAYSWATER, May, 1827.
MY DEAREST H----:

I received your letter the day before yesterday, and felt very much
obliged to you for it, and was particularly interested by your
description of Kenilworth, round which Walter Scott's admirable
novel has cast a halo of romance forever; for many who would have
cared little about it as the residence of Leicester, honored for
some days by the presence of Elizabeth, will remember with a thrill
of interest and pity the night poor Amy Robsart passed there, and
the scene between her, Leicester, and th