My dear Hodgson,—I have been rather afraid, since I received your last, to trust Croker’s channel again, as, from some other irregularities in packets which he used to transmit very punctually to me, I rather fear the Sublime Porte is beginning to occupy him too much for us minor sublimities to have any chance of attention. I shall therefore send you your letters at intervals, under my friend Bennett’s covers. You cannot think how it worried me to find you had been put to such expence by your kindness to me.
I have sent Mrs. Blencoe the promised
cheques, and pray, tell Mrs. Arkwright
that I have hit two birds at once by it, as, besides shining out in the
miscellany myself, I have immortalised her, having put
into verse that dream she knows of, in which a certain face came to me one fine
morning and
| 162 | MEMOIR OF REV. F. HODGSON. |
I have heard from Mrs. A., who says she is ‘raised, refined’ by Pasta, neither of which processes was she in want of. Nothing can be happier than the tone in which she writes.
