Do you recollect sending me your biography of Shakespeare last autumn,
and my not acknowledging its receipt? I do, with remorse.
The truth is, that I took it out of town with me, read it with great
pleasure as a charming piece of honest enthusiasm and perseverance, kept
it by me, came home, meant to say all manner of things to you, suffered
the time to go by, got ashamed, thought of speaking to you, never saw
you, felt it heavy on my mind, and now fling off the load by thanking
you heartily, and hoping you will not think it too late.
Always believe me,
Faithfully yours.
[Sidenote: Miss Ely.]