when I think that I have not yet said “thank you” for him—­is most delightful.  You know how I love a bit of colour, and a quaint shape.  He arrived with one foot off, but I can easily stick it on.  Thank you so much.  I must not say more to-day, except to hope you’ll feel a little stronger when we see more of the sun; and, thanking you and Francie for your cards—­(I was greatly delighted to see my friends the queer fungi again)—­and with love to your Mother—­who I hope is getting fairly through the winter.

Yours gratefully and affectionately,
J.H.  EWING.

TO MRS. JELF.

January 22, 1885.

DEAREST M.,

I am so pleased you like the brazen candlesticks.

I have long wanted to tell you how lovely I thought all your Xmas cards.  Auntie’s snow scene was exquisite—­and your Angels have adorned my sick-room for nearly a month!  Most beautiful.

I know you’ll be glad I had my first “decent” night last night—­since December 18!—­No very lengthy vigils and no pain to speak of.  No pain to growl about to-day.  A great advance.

Indeed, dear—­I should not only be glad but grateful to go to you by and by for a short fillip.  Dr. L——­ would have sent me away now if weather, etc. were fit—­or I could move.

After desperate struggles—­made very hard by illness—­I hope to see “Laetus” in May at one shilling.  Gordon Browne doing well.  Do you object to the ending of “Laetus”—­to Lady Jane having another son, etc.?  Do the Farrants?  My dear love to them.  This bitter—­sunless, lifeless weather must have tried Kitty very much.

* * * * *

Your loving,
J.H.E.

[In typewriting.]

Taunton. February 16, 1885.

MY DEAREST MARNY,

Rex is “typing” for me, but my own mouth must thank you for your goodness, for being so ready to take me in.  By and by I shall indeed be grateful to go to you.  But this is not likely to be for some weeks to come.  You can’t imagine what a Greenwich pensioner I am.  I told my doctor this morning that he’d better send me up a wood square with four wheels, like those beggars in London who have no limbs; for both my legs and my right arm were hors de combat, and to-day he has found an inflamed vein in my left, so that has gone into fomentations too.

But in spite of all this I feel better, and do hope I shall soon be up and about.  But he says the risk of these veins would be likely to come if I over-exerted myself, so—­anxious as I am to get to purer air, I don’t think it would do to move until my legs are more fit.  May I write again and tell you when I am fit for Aldershot?  Dr. L——­ highly approves of the air of it, but at present he thinks lying in bed the only safe course.  Do thank dear Aunty next time you write to her for her goodness, and tell her that in my present state I should make her seem quite spry and active.  A thousand thanks for the Pall Mall.  I do not neglect one word of what you say; but I need hardly say that I can’t work at present.