If you were not the most suspicious of women, always looking for soft
sawder in the purest metal of praise, I should call your paper
delightful, and touched in the tenderest and most delicate manner. Being
what you are, I confine myself to the observation that I have called it
"A Love Affair at Cranford," and sent it off to the printer.
Faithfully yours ever.
[Sidenote: Mr. Peter Cunningham.]