_[Edinburgh, October 16, 1873], Thursday._
MY DEAR COLVIN,--I am at my wits' end about this abominable form of
admission. I don't know what the devil it is; I haven't got one even if
I did, and so can't sign.
Monday night is the very earliest on which (even if I go on mending at
the very great pace I have made already) I can hope to be in London
myself. But possibly it is only intimation that requires to be made on
Tuesday morning; and one may possess oneself of a form of admission up
to the eleventh hour. I send herewith a letter which I must ask you to
cherish, as I count it a sort of talisman. Perhaps you may understand
it, I don't.
If you don't understand it, please do not trouble and we must just hope
that Tuesday morning will be early enough to do all. Of course I fear
the exam. will spin me; indeed after this bodily and spiritual crisis I
should not dream of coming up at all; only that I require it as a
pretext for a moment's escape, which I want much.
I am so glad that _Roads_ has got in. I had almost as soon have it in
the Portfolio as the Saturday; the P. is so nicely printed and I am
_gourmet_ in type. I don't know how to thank you for your continual
kindness to me; and I am afraid I do not even feel grateful enough--you
have let your kindnesses come on me so easily.--Yours sincerely,