DEAR M.—Get me Shirley (there’s a dear fellow) and send it soon. We sadly want books, and this will be readable again and again, and pay itself. Tell Emma I grieve for the poor self-punishing self-baffling Lady; with all our hearts we grieve for the pain and vexation she has encounterd; but we do not swerve a pin’s-thought from the propriety of your measures. God comfort her, and there’s an end of a painful necessity. But I am glad she goes to see her. Let her keep up all the kindness she can between them. In a week or two I hope Mary will be stout enough to come among ye, but she is not now, and I have scruples of coming alone, as she has no pleasant friend to sit with her in my absence. We are lonely. I fear the visits must be mostly from you. By the way omnibuses are 1s/3d and coach insides sunk to 1/6—a hint. Without disturbance to yourselves, or upsetting the economy of the dear new mistress of a family, come and see us as often as ever you can. We are so out of the world, that a letter from either of you now and then, detailing any thing, Book or Town news, is as good as a newspaper. I have desperate colds, cramps, megrims &c., but do not despond. My fingers are numb’d, as you see by my writing. Tell E. I am very good also. But we are poor devils, that’s the truth of it. I won’t apply to Dilke—just now at least—I sincerely hope the pastoral air of Dover St. will recruit poor Harriet. With best loves to all.
Ryle and Lowe
dined here on Sunday; the manners of the latter, so gentlemanly! have
attracted the special admiration of our Land-
| 920 | LETTERS OF C. AND M. LAMB | Nov. |
