Remember the winter, and be wise; and let me see you, before it comes, looking as bright and well as I thought you last year.

God bless you always.
Love your ever affectionate BA.
Robert's love.
* * * * * _To Miss Mitford_ London: Friday, [October 6, 1852].
My dearest Miss Mitford,--I am quite in pain to have to write a farewell to you after all.

As soon as Wilson had returned--and she stayed away much longer than last year--we found ourselves pushed to the edge of our time for remaining in England, and the accumulation of business to be done before we could go pressed on us.

I am almost mad with the amount of things to be done, as it is; but I should have put the visit to you at the head of them, and swept all the rest on one side for a day, if it hadn't been for the detestable weather, and my horrible cough which combines with it.

When Wilson came back she found me coughing in my old way, and it has been without intermission up to now, or rather waxing worse and worse.