must be all over; even the consciousness of existence, I suppose, was
gone when you wrote. The nonsense I have been writing in this and in
my last letter seems out of place at such a time, but I will not mind
it; it will do you no harm, and nobody else will be attacked by it. I
am heartily glad that you can speak so comfortably of your own health
and looks, though I can scarcely comprehend the latter being really
approved. Could travelling fifty miles produce such an immediate
change? You were looking very poorly here, and everybody seemed
sensible of it. Is there a charm in a hack postchaise? But if there
were, Mrs. Craven's carriage might have undone it all. I am much
obliged to you for the time and trouble you have bestowed on Mary's
cap, and am glad it pleases her; but it will prove a useless gift at
present, I suppose. Will not she leave Ibthorp on her mother's death?
As a companion you are all that Martha can be supposed to want, and in
that light, under these circumstances, your visit will indeed have
been well timed.

'_Thursday_.--I was not able to go on yesterday; all my wit and
leisure were bestowed on letters to Charles and Henry. To the former
I wrote in consequence of my mother's having seen in the papers that
the "Urania" was waiting at Portsmouth for the convoy for Halifax.
This is nice, as it is only three weeks ago that you wrote by the
"Camilla." I wrote to Henry because I had a letter from him in which
he desired to hear from me very soon. His to me was most affectionate
and kind, as well as entertaining; there is no merit to him in _that_;
he cannot help being amusing. He offers to meet us on the sea coast,
if the plan of which Edward gave him some hint takes place. Will not
this be making the execution of such a plan more desirable and
delightful than ever? He talks of the rambles we took together last
summer with pleasing affection.