I never read Greek to any person except yourself and Mr. MacSwiney, my brother's tutor. To him I read longer than a few weeks, but then it was rather guessing and stammering and tottering through parts of Homer and extracts from Xenophon than reading. _You_ would not have called it reading if you had heard it. I studied hard by myself afterwards, and the kindness with which afterwards still you assisted me, if yourself remembers gladly _I_ remember _gratefully_ and gladly. I have just been told that your servant was desired by you _not to wait a minute_. The wind is unfavorable for the sea. I do not think there is the least probability of my going before the end of next week, if then. You shall hear. Affectionately yours, E.B. BARRETT. I am tolerably well. I have been forced to take digitalis again, which makes me feel weak; but still I am better, I think. [Footnote 50: Altered in later editions to 'satisfies.'] [Footnote 51: In later editions 'not' is repeated instead of 'nor,' which looks like a compromise between her own opinion and Mr. Boyd's.] [Footnote 52: The poem entitled 'Sounds,' in the volume of 1838, contained the line 'As erst in Patmos apolyptic John,' presumably for 'apocalyptic.' This being naturally held to be 'without excuse,' the line was altered in subsequent editions to 'As the seer-saint of Patmos, loving John.'] In the course of this year the failure in Miss Barrett's health had become so great that her doctor advised removal to a warmer climate for the winter. Torquay was the place selected, and thither she went in the autumn, accompanied by her brother Edward, her favourite companion from childhood. Other members of the family, including Mr. Barrett, joined them from time to time. At Torquay she was able to live, but no more, and it was found necessary for her to stay during the summers as well as the winters of the next three years. Letters from this period are scarce, though it is clear from Miss Mitford's correspondence that a continuous interchange of letters was kept up between the two friends, and her acquaintanceship with Horne was now ripening into a close literary intimacy. A story relating to Bishop Phillpotts of Exeter, the hero of so many racy anecdotes, is contained in a letter of Miss Barrett's which must have been written about Christmas of either 1838 or 1839:-- 'He [the bishop] was, however, at church on Christmas Day, and upon Mr. Elliot's being mercifully inclined to omit the Athanasian Creed, prompted him most episcopally from the pew with a "whereas;" and further on in the Creed, when the benign reader substituted the word _condemnation_ for the terrible one--"Damnation!" exclaimed the bishop. The effect must have been rather startling.'