My love to your excellent husband (I wonder whether he and the dining-room have got to rights yet!), and to the jolly little boys and the calm little girl. Somehow, I shall always think of Lord Spencer as eternally walking up and down the platform at Rugby, in a high chill wind, with no apparent hope of a train--as I left him; and somehow I always think of Rockingham, after coming away, as if I belonged to it and had left a bit of my heart behind, which it is so very odd to find wanting twenty times a day. Ever, dear Mrs. Watson, faithfully yours, and his. [Sidenote: The same.] DEVONSHIRE TERRACE, _Tuesday Night, Jan. 28th, 1851._ MY DEAR, DEAR MRS. WATSON, I presume you mean Mr. Stafford and Mr. Stopford to pay Wilson (as I have instructed him) a guinea each? Am I right? In that just case I still owe you a guinea for _my_ part. I was going to send you a post-office order for that amount, when a faint sense of absurdity mantled my ingenuous visage with a blush, and I thought it better to owe you the money until we met. I hope it may be soon! I believe I may lay claim to the mysterious inkstand, also to a volume lettered on the back, "Shipwrecks and Disasters at Sea, II.," which I left when I came down at Christmas. Will you take care of them as hostages until we effect an exchange? Charley went back in great spirits, threatening to write to George. It was a very wet night, and John took him to the railway. He said, on his return: "Mas'r Charles went off very gay, sir. He found some young gen'lemen as was his friends in the train, sir." "Come," said I, "I am glad of that. How many were there? Two or three?" "Oh dear, sir, there was a matter of forty, sir! All with their heads out o' the coach-windows, sir, a-hallooing 'Dickens!' all over the station!" Her ladyship and the ward of the FIZ-ZISH-UN send their best loves, in which I heartily join. If you and your dear husband come to town before we bring out Bulwer's comedy, I think we must have a snug reading of it. Ever, dear Mrs. Watson, faithfully yours. [Sidenote: Mr. Mark Lemon.] DEVONSHIRE TERRACE, _Friday, Jan. 31st, 1851._ MY DEAR LEMON, We are deeply sorry to receive the mournful intelligence of your calamity. But we know you will both have found comfort in that blessed belief, from which the sacred figure with the child upon His knee is, in all stages of our lives, inseparable, for of such is the kingdom of God! We join in affectionate loves to you and your dear wife. She well deserves your praise, I am sure. Ever affectionately yours. [Sidenote: Mr. W. H. Wills.] DEVONSHIRE TERRACE, _Monday, Feb. 10th, 1851._ MY DEAR WILLS, There is a small part in Bulwer's comedy, but very good what there is--not much--my servant, who opens the play, which I should be very glad if you would like to do.