poor Despair into the open streets, who being a gentleman wouldn’t elbow again—­swore that ’if she married another he would wait till she became a widow, trusting to Providence’ ... did wait every morning till the head of the house was out, and sate day by day, in spite of the disinclination of my sisters and the rudeness of all my brothers, four hours in the drawing-room ... let himself be refused once a week and sate all the longer ... allowed everybody in the house (and a few visitors) to see and hear him in fits of hysterical sobbing, and sate on unabashed, the end being that he sits now sole regnant, my poor sister saying softly, with a few tears of remorse for her own instability, that she is ’taken by storm and cannot help it.’  I give you only the resume of this military movement—­and though I seem to smile, which it was impossible to avoid at some points of the evidence as I heard it from first one person and then another, yet I am woman enough rather to be glad that the decision is made so.  He is sincerely attached to her, I believe; and the want of refinement and sensibility (for he understood her affections to be engaged to another at one time) is covered in a measure by the earnestness,—­and justified too by the event—­everybody being quite happy and contented, even to Despair, who has a new horse and takes lessons in music.

That’s love—­is it not?  And that’s my answer (if you look for it) to the question you asked me yesterday.

Yet do not think that I am turning it all to game.  I could not do so with any real earnest sentiment ...  I never could ... and now least, and with my own sister whom I love so.  One may smile to oneself and yet wish another well—­and so I smile to you—­and it is all safe with you I know.  He is a second or third cousin of ours and has golden opinions from all his friends and fellow-officers—­and for the rest, most of these men are like one another....  I never could see the difference between fuller’s earth and common clay, among them all.

What do you think he has said since—­to her too?—­’I always persevere about everything.  Once I began to write a farce—­which they told me was as bad as could be.  Well!—­I persevered!—­I finished it.’  Perfectly unconscious, both he and she were of there being anything mal a propos in that—­and no kind of harm was meant,—­only it expresses the man.

Dearest—­it had better be Thursday I think—­our day!  I was showing to-day your father’s drawings,—­and my brothers, and Arabel besides, admired them very much on the right grounds.  Say how you are.  You did not seem to me to answer frankly this time, and I was more than half uneasy when you went away.  Take exercise, dear, dearest ... think of me enough for it,—­and do not hurry ‘Luria.’  May God bless you!

Your own

Ba.

R.B. to E.B.B.

Sunday Evening.
[Post-mark, January 26, 1846.]