this moment, and think so too, if you have not done it before; and we
have the great comfort of seeing decided improvement in uncle Charles,
both as to health, spirits, and appearance. And they are each of them
so agreeable in their different way, and harmonise so well, that their
visit is thorough enjoyment. Uncle Henry writes very superior
sermons. You and I must try to get hold of one or two, and put them
into our novels: it would be a fine help to a volume; and we could
make our heroine read it aloud on a Sunday evening, just as well as
Isabella Wardour, in the "Antiquary," is made to read the "History of
the Hartz Demon" in the ruins of St. Ruth, though I believe, on
recollection, Lovell is the reader. By the bye, my dear E., I am
quite concerned for the loss your mother mentions in her letter. Two
chapters and a half to be missing is monstrous! It is well that _I_
have not been at Steventon lately, and therefore cannot be suspected
of purloining them: two strong twigs and a half towards a nest of my
own would have been something. I do not think, however, that any
theft of that sort would be really very useful to me. What should I
do with your strong, manly, vigorous sketches, full of variety and
glow? How could I possibly join them on to the little bit (two inches
wide) of ivory on which I work with so fine a brush, as produces
little effect after much labour?

'You will hear from uncle Henry how well Anna is. She seems perfectly
recovered. Ben was here on Saturday, to ask uncle Charles and me to
dine with them, as to-morrow, but I was forced to decline it, the walk
is beyond my strength (though I am otherwise very well), and this is
not a season for donkey-carriages; and as we do not like to spare
uncle Charles, he has declined it too.

_Tuesday_. Ah, ah! Mr. E. I doubt your seeing uncle Henry at