candlestick

August 1857-June 1858


The Collected Letters, Volume 33


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TC TO JWC ; 19 January 1858; DOI: 10.1215/lt-18570119-TC-JWC-01; CL 33: 163-164


TC TO JWC

The Grange 19 jany, 1857 [1858]

Nothing at all to say, my dear little Goody, if it be not to thank you for your good little Note of this morning; and to announce that I am to be home tomorrow (Wednesday) according to program, if nothing sinister present. What hour I come at is not to be specified at this moment; for tho' I inquired I did not learn: the only fixed thing is Ld A. is to drive over with me himself; and I conclude it will be the soonest handy hour after about 11 or Noon (at which latter hour he seems mostly to go out): so that (if all have gone well) it will probably be somewhere towards 4 p.m,—before or after,—when I come in upon poor Nero and you again.

Your accounts of neither of these individualities are cheering: of your own poor allowance of sleep, I learn nothing except the ominous fact of “frequent lucifers,”1—my poor little suffering woman! But I shall see with my eyes in the course of not many hours farther.

Today I have walked less; but I have been in the air all along almost; drove with the lame Host (who is really very good company in the silent lanes in a swift open vehicle); and few minutes ago, I returned from a ride which probably the Horse thot long. I am thoroughly stupified and tired by it; and have a notion to put on a dressing-gown, and tumble into bed here. For dinner is at the easy hour of eight: a bit of bread and butter I have to eat at lunch falls heavy on me in the long afternoon. I write in my own room tonight; they announce tea: but it is uncertain whether I will go.

I delivered both your messages almost in your own words; and both were handsomely received. I have never opened the Proofs I know what they are; need to see Neuberg before they can be finished,—and scunner at beginning them in the present mood and element. Oh my poor little Goody, get better, were it never so little! Better or worse it is a great blessing to get home to thee again. Blessings ever

T. Carlyle