Wednesday.—­Only ...  I persist in the view of the other question.  This will not do for the ‘sign,’ ... this, which, so far from being qualified for disproving a dream, is the beautiful image of a dream in itself ... so beautiful:  and with the very shut eyelids, and the “little folding of the hands to sleep.”  You see at a glance it will not do.  And so—­

Just as one might be interrupted while telling a fairy-tale, ... in the midst of the “and so’s” ... just so, I have been interrupted by the coming in of Miss Bayley, and here she has been sitting for nearly two hours, from twelve to two nearly, and I like her, do you know.  Not only she talks well, which was only a thing to expect, but she seems to feel ... to have great sensibility—­and her kindness to me ... kindness of manner and words and expression, all together ... quite touched me.—­I did not think of her being so loveable a person.  Yet it was kind and generous, her proposition about Italy; (did I tell you how she made it to me through Mr. Kenyon long ago—­when I was a mere stranger to her?) the proposition to go there with me herself.  It was quite a grave, earnest proposal of hers—­which was one of the reasons why I could not even wish not to see her to-day.  Because you see, it was a tremendous degree of experimental generosity, to think of going to Italy by sea with an invalid stranger, “seule a seule.”  And she was wholly in earnest, wholly.  Is there not good in the world after all?

Tell me how you are, for I am not at ease about you—­You were not well even yesterday, I thought.  If this goes on ... but it mustn’t go on—­oh, it must not.  May God bless us more!

Do not fancy, in the meantime, that you stay here ‘too long’ for any observation that can be made.  In the first place there is nobody to ’observe’—­everybody is out till seven, except the one or two who will not observe if I tell them not.  My sisters are glad when you come, because it is a gladness of mine, ... they observe.  I have a great deal of liberty, to have so many chains; we all have, in this house:  and though the liberty has melancholy motives, it saves some daily torment, and I do not complain of it for one.

May God bless you!  Do not forget me.  Say how you are.  What good can I do you with all my thoughts, when you keep unwell?  See!—­Facts are against fancies.  As when I would not have the lamp lighted yesterday because it seemed to make it later, and you proved directly that it would not make it earlier, by getting up and going away!

Wholly and ever your

E.B.B.

R.B. to E.B.B.

[Post-mark, November 28, 1845.][1]

Take it, dearest; what I am forced to think you mean—­and take no more with it—­for I gave all to give long ago—­I am all yours—­and now, mine; give me mine to be happy with!

You will have received my note of yesterday.—­I am glad you are satisfied with Miss Bayley, whom I, too, thank ... that is, sympathize with, ... (not wonder at, though)—­for her intention....  Well, may it all be for best—­here or at Pisa, you are my blessing and life.