unwise as yours. What am I to do? A particular reason! It is a
particular reason that I pine for my mother. Can there be any
reason more particular than a longing for the sight of a dear face,
for kisses and embraces? You must counsel me.


BLACKDEEP, 15th December 1838.

As Charles imagines I am carried away by what he calls impulses, I
did not answer your letter at once, and I have been thinking as much
as I can. I am not a good hand at it. Your dear father had a joke
against me. 'Rachel, you can't think; but never mind, you can do
much better without thinking than other people can with it.' I wish
I had gone straight to you at once, and yet it was better I did not.
It would have put Charles out, and this would not have been pleasant
for either you or me. I would not have you at Blackdeep now for
worlds. The low fever has broken out, and to-day there were two
funerals. Parson preached a sermon about it; it was a judgment from
God. Perhaps it is, but why did it take your father three years
ago? It is all a mystery, and it looks to me sometimes as if here
on earth there were nothing but mystery. I have just heard that
parson is down with the fever himself.

Do let me have a long letter at once.


HOMERTON, 20th December 1838.

A Mrs. Perkins has been here. She sat with me for an hour. She
spends her afternoons in going her rounds among her friends, as she