_After the fortnight._ God bless you.
Your ever affectionate E.B.B.
* * * * * _To Miss Mitford_ 58 Welbeck Street: Tuesday, [September 1852].
Alas, no; I cannot go to you before the Saturday you name, nor for some days after, dearest friend.

It is simply impossible.

Wilson has not come back, nor will till the end of next week, and though I can get away from my child for two or three hours at once during the daytime, for the whole day I could not go.

What would become of him, poor darling ?...
And I can't go to you this week, nor next week, probably.

How vexatious! My comfort is that you seem to be better--much, much better--and that you have courage to think of the pony carriages and the Kingsleys of the earth.