I don't see why you should go to the Ship, and I won't stand it. The
state apartment will be occupied by the Duke of Middlesex (whom I think
you know), but we can easily get a bed for you hard by. Therefore you
will please to drive here next Saturday evening. Our regular dinner hour
is half-past five. If you are later, you will find something ready for
you.
If you go on in that way about your part, I shall think you want to play
Mr. Gabblewig. Your role, though a small one on the stage, is a large
one off it; and no man is more important to the Guild, both on and off.
My dear friend Watson! Dead after an illness of four days. He dined with
us this day three weeks. I loved him as my heart, and cannot think of
him without tears.
Ever affectionately.
[Sidenote: Mr. Mark Lemon.]