He was already well ahead with his fly business, and he had just started in the spider line also, so he had not been of any trouble to me.

I had a letter from Arthur, written on Sunday, and from it I gather that he is bearing up wonderfully well.

Quincey Morris is with him, and that is much of a help, for he himself is a bubbling well of good spirits.

Quincey wrote me a line too, and from him I hear that Arthur is beginning to recover something of his old buoyancy, so as to them all my mind is at rest.

As for myself, I was settling down to my work with the enthusiasm which I used to have for it, so that I might fairly have said that the wound which poor Lucy left on me was becoming cicatrised.
Everything is, however, now reopened, and what is to be the end God only knows.