Arabel simply says she is afraid from what you have written to her that you must be very ill; she does not tell me what you wrote to her--perhaps for fear of paining me--and now I am pained by the silence beyond measure.
Robert's love and warmest wishes for you.

He appreciates your kind word to him.

And I, what am I to say?
I love you from a very sad and grateful heart, looking backwards and forwards--and _upwards_ to pray God's love down on you! Your ever affectionate E.B.B., rather BA.
Precious the books will be to me.

I hope not to wait to read them till they reach me, as there is a bookseller here who will be sure to have them.

Thank you, thank you.
* * * * * _To Miss Mitford_ Florence: September 4, 1854.
Five minutes do not pass, my beloved friend, since reading this dear letter which has wrung from me tender and sorrowful tears, and answering it thus.