I believe in you absolutely, utterly—­I believe that when you bade me, that time, be silent—­that such was your bidding, and I was silent—­dare I say I think you did not know at that time the power I have over myself, that I could sit and speak and listen as I have done since?  Let me say now—­this only once—­that I loved you from my soul, and gave you my life, so much of it as you would take,—­and all that is done, not to be altered now:  it was, in the nature of the proceeding, wholly independent of any return on your part.  I will not think on extremes you might have resorted to; as it is, the assurance of your friendship, the intimacy to which you admit me, now, make the truest, deepest joy of my life—­a joy I can never think fugitive while we are in life, because I KNOW, as to me, I could not willingly displease you,—­while, as to you, your goodness and understanding will always see to the bottom of involuntary or ignorant faults—­always help me to correct them.  I have done now.  If I thought you were like other women I have known, I should say so much!—­but—­(my first and last word—­I believe in you!)—­what you could and would give me, of your affection, you would give nobly and simply and as a giver—­you would not need that I tell you—­(tell you!)—­what would be supreme happiness to me in the event—­however distant—­

I repeat ...  I call on your justice to remember, on your intelligence to believe ... that this is merely a more precise stating the first subject; to put an end to any possible misunderstanding—­to prevent your henceforth believing that because I do not write, from thinking too deeply of you, I am offended, vexed &c. &c.  I will never recur to this, nor shall you see the least difference in my manner next Monday:  it is indeed, always before me ... how I know nothing of you and yours.  But I think I ought to have spoken when I did—­and to speak clearly ... or more clearly what I do, as it is my pride and duty to fall back, now, on the feeling with which I have been in the meantime—­Yours—­God bless you—­

R.B.

Let me write a few words to lead into Monday—­and say, you have probably received my note.  I am much better—­with a little headache, which is all, and fast going this morning.  Of yours you say nothing—­I trust you see your ... dare I say your duty in the Pisa affair, as all else must see it—­shall I hear on Monday?  And my ‘Saul’ that you are so lenient to.

Bless you ever—­

E.B.B. to R.B.

Sunday.
[August 31, 1845.]