altogether; and I still feel that I shall very much grieve to leave it:  so that it is happy for us that neither is the decider on this point.  I have often thought that it is happier not to do what one pleases, and perhaps you will agree with me—­if you don’t please at the present moment to do something very particular.  And do tell me, dear Mrs. Martin, what you are pleasing to do, and what you are doing:  for it seems to me, and indeed is, a long time since I heard of you and Mr. Martin in detail.  Miss Maria Commeline sent a note to Henrietta a fortnight ago:  and in it was honorable mention of you—­but I won’t interfere with the sublimities of your imagination, by telling you what it was....  I should like to hear something of Hope End:  whether there are many alterations, and whether the new lodge, of which I heard, is built.  Even now, the thought stands before me sometimes like an object in a dream that I shall see no more those hills and trees which seemed to me once almost like portions of my existence.  This is not meant for murmuring.  I have had much happiness at Sidmouth, though with a character of its own.  Henrietta and Arabel and I are the only guardians just now of the three youngest boys, the only ones at home:  and I assure you, we have not too little to do.  They are no longer little boys.  There is an anxiety among us just now to have letters from Jamaica—­from my dear dear Bro—­but the packet is only ‘expected.’  The last accounts were comforting ones; and I am living on the hope of seeing him back again in the spring.  Stormie and Georgie are doing well at Glasgow.  So Dr. Wardlaw says....  Henrietta’s particular love to you; and do believe me always,

Your affectionate
E.B.  BARRETT.

You have of course heard of poor Mrs. Boyd’s death.  Mr. Boyd and his daughter are both in London, and likely, I think, to remain there.

To H.S.  Boyd Sidmouth:  Tuesday [spring 1835].

My dear Mr. Boyd,—...  Now I am going to tell you the only good news I know, and you will be glad, I know, to be told what I am going to tell you.  Dear Georgie has taken his degree, and very honorably, at Glasgow, and is coming to us in all the dignity of a Bachelor of Arts.  He was examined in Logic, Moral Philosophy, Greek and Latin, of course publicly:  and we have heard from a fellow student of his, that his answers were more pertinent than those of any other of the examined, and elicited much applause.  Mr. Groube is the fellow student—­but he has ceased to be one, having found the Glasgow studies too heavy for his health.  Stormie shrank from the public examination, on account of the hesitation in his speech.  He would not go up; although, according to report, as well qualified as Georgie.  Mr. Groube says that the ladies of Glasgow are preparing to break their hearts for Georgie’s departure:  and he and Stormie leave Glasgow on May I. Now, I am sure you will rejoice with me in the result of the examination.  Do you not, dear friend?  I was very anxious about it; and almost resigned to hear of a failure—­for Georgie was in great alarm and prepared us for the very worst.  Therefore the surprise and pleasure were great.