I make it a case of conscience to discover my faults to you as fast as I know them, that you may consider what you have to do.  My aunt told me no longer agone than yesterday that I was the most wilful woman that ever she knew, and had an obstinacy of spirit nothing could overcome.  Take heed! you see I give you fair warning.

I have missed a letter this Monday:  What is the reason?  By the next, I shall be gone into Kent, and my other journey is laid aside, which I am not displeased at, because it would have broken our intercourse very much.

Here are some verses of Cowley’s.  Tell me how you like them.  ’Tis only a piece taken out of a new thing of his; the whole is very long, and is a description of, or rather a paraphrase upon the friendship of David and Jonathan.  ’Tis, I think, the best I have seen of his, and I like the subject because ’tis that I would be perfect in.  Adieu.

Je suis vostre.

Letter 62.

June the 26th [1654].

I told you in my last that my Suffolk journey was laid aside, and that into Kent hastened.  I am beginning it to-day; and have chosen to go as far as Gravesend by water, though it be very gloomy weather.  If I drown by the way, this will be my last letter; and, like a will, I bequeath all my kindness to you in it, with a charge never to bestow it all upon another mistress, lest my ghost rise again and haunt you.  I am in such haste that I can say little else to you now.  When you are come over, we’l’ think where to meet, for at this distance I can design nothing; only I should be as little pleased with the constraint of my brother’s house as you.  Pray let me know whether your man leaves you, and how you stand inclined to him I offer you.  Indeed, I like him extremely, and he is commended to me, by people that know him very well and are able to judge, for a most excellent servant, and faithful as possible.  I’ll keep him unengaged till I hear from you.  Adieu.

My next shall make amends for this short one.

[P.S.]—­I received your last of June 22nd since I sealed up my letter, and I durst not but make an excuse for another short one, after you have chid me so for those you have received already; indeed, I could not help it, nor cannot now, but if that will satisfy I can assure you I shall make a much better wife than I do a husband, if I ever am one. Pardon, mon Cher Coeur, on m’attend.  Adieu, mon Ame.  Je vous souhait tout ce que vous desire.

Letter 63.

July the 4th [1654].

Because you find fault with my other letters, this is like to be shorter than they; I did not intend it so though, I can assure you.  But last night my brother told me he did not send his till ten o’clock this morning, and now he calls for mine at seven, before I am up; and I can only be allowed time to tell you that I am in Kent, and in a house so strangely crowded with company that I am weary as a dog already,