I hope your wedding went well to-day.  My sister’s—­is postponed till the 28th—­for the convenience of the best man.  If by Thursday (you must be a full two days’ post from a Yorkshire country place) the Master had one or two Bouquet D’Or or other white or yellow roses not very fully blown—­and your handy Meta would wind wet rags about their stalks and put them in an empty coffee-tin and despatch them by parcels post to Miss Gatty, Ecclesfield Vicarage, Sheffield, Yorks, they would be greatly welcomed to eke out the white decorations of my Mother’s grave for the wedding-day.  I am wildly watering my Paris Daisies—­and hope to get some wild Ox-eye daisies also—­as her name was Margaret (and her pet name Meta!).  I am applying prayers and slopwater in equal proportions—­like any Kelt!—­to my Bouquet D’Or and other white and yellow roses!  I shall have some double white Canterbury Bells, etc.—­but there is coming a lull in the flowers, and they won’t re-bloom much till we have rain.

Please give my love to all your party, not forgetting the house dove and the dog—­

I reproach my Rufus with his tricks and talents!

I have had great benefit in a fit of neuralgia from your chili paste.

Yours, dear Mrs. Going,
Sincerely and affectionately,
JULIANA HORATIA EWING.

TO MRS. JELF.

November 3, 1884.

DEAREST MARNY,

Enclosed is “Daddy Darwin”—­for Richard!—­and two of the Verse Books for the two dear Queers I had so many luncheons with!

You know I risked printing 20,000 D.D.D. on my own book to cheapen printing—­so you’ll be glad to hear that after ordering 10,000 at the beginning of last week—­S.P.C.K. have ordered another 10,000 at the end of it!!  But I’ve been having such “times” with the printers’ and publishers’ daemons!!

I must not write, however, for I have been ill also!!  A throat attack.  We were afraid of diphtheria—­but if it were that I should not be writing to you as you’ll guess.  There has been another outbreak of it just round us, and a good many throats of sorts in its train, but Dr. L——­ does not seem to think mine due to much more than exhaustion—­and he seemed to think nursing the dog had not been very good for me.  He says distemper is typhoid fever!

We had a very jolly little visit from Colonel C——.  He was at his very funniest.  Mimicked us both to our faces till we yelled again!  As Rex said—­“Not a bit altered!  The old man! Would any other play the bones about his bedroom in his night-shirt?”

He went off waving farewells and shouting—­“We’ll both come next time—­and rouse ye well.”

Your loving, J.H.E.

Saturday.

DEAREST MARNY,

You have indeed the sympathy of my whole heart!