"MY DARLING LITTLE FLEDA,

"I am dying to see you — so pack up and come down with Dr.
Gregory, if the least spark of regard for me is slumbering in
your breast. Mamma and Florence are writing to beg you — but
though an insignificant member of the family, considering that
instead of being 'next to head', only little Edith prevents my
being at the less dignified end of this branch of the social
system, I could not prevail upon myself to let the
representations of my respected elders go unsupported by mine
— especially as I felt persuaded of the superior efficacy of
the motives I had it in my power to present to your truly
philanthropical mind.

"I am in a state of mind that baffles description — Mr.
Carleton is going home! —

"I have not worn ear-rings in my ears for a fortnight; my
personal appearance is become a matter of indifference to me;
any description of mental exertion is excruciating; I sit
constantly listening for the ringing of the door-bell, and
when it sounds, I rush frantically to the head of the
staircase, and look over to see who it is; the mere sight of
pen and ink excites delirious ideas — judge what I suffer in
writing to you.

"To make the matter worse (if it could be), I have been
informed privately, that he is going home to crown at the
altar of Hymen an old attachment to one of the loveliest of