So you may have me some day when the physicians give me up, but then, you won't, you know, and it wouldn't, any way, be merry visiting.
Foolish to write all this! As if any human being could know thoroughly what _he_ was to me.

It must seem so extravagant, and perhaps affected, even to _you_, who are large-hearted and make allowances.

After these years! And, after all, I might have just said the other truth, that we are at the end of our purse, and can't travel any more, not even to Taunton, where poor Henrietta, who is hindered from coming to me by a like pecuniary straitness, begs so hard that we should go.

Also, we are bound to London by business engagements; a book in the press (Robert's two volumes), and _proofs_ coming in at all hours.

We have been asked to two or three places at an hour's distance from London, and can't stir; to Knebworth, for instance, where Sir Edward Lytton wants us to go.