I have been considering the great house question since you kindly called
yesterday evening, and come to the conclusion that I had better not let
it go. I am convinced it is the prudent thing for me to do, and that I
am very unlikely to find the same comforts for the rising generation
elsewhere, for the same money. Therefore, as Robins no doubt understands
that you would come to me yesterday--passing his life as he does amidst
every possible phase of such negotiations--I think it hardly worth while
to wait for the receipt of his coming letter. If you will take the
trouble to call on him in the morning, and offer the L1,450, I shall be
very much obliged to you. If you will receive from me full power to
conclude the purchase (subject of course to my solicitor's approval of
the lease), pray do. I give you _carte blanche_ to L1,500, but I think
the L1,450 ought to win the day.
I don't make any apologies for thrusting this honour upon you, knowing
what a thorough-going old pump you are. Lemon and his wife are coming
here, after the rehearsal, to a gipsy sort of cold dinner. Time,
half-past three. Viands, pickled salmon and cold pigeon-pie. Occupation
afterwards, lying on the carpet as a preparation for histrionic
strength. Will you come with us from the Hanover Square Rooms?
Ever affectionately.
[Sidenote: Mr. Charles Knight.]