My dear Fox

I have been a neglectful dog, for I see in your last note, an age since, that you ask for one line to hear about Emma & her Babby— She has never had so good a recovery & there never was such a good little soul—as Miss Henrietta Emma Darwin— she is beginning to smile & be very charming,—though how she has any idea, except whether the milk comes fast or slow is hard to conjecture— I have now nearly got this place in order, though there is much yet to do—& I think when you next see it, you will think it greatly improved—¹ I have made a nice little orchard, all dwarfs, as you, for one, recommended.— Susan is staying here & likes the quiet of the place much. She has leave of absence, as Caroline & Jos have not yet removed from Shrewsbury, where Caroline produced a little girl, a few days after our affair.— We continue in the same profoundly tranquil state, as when you were here, & have only got to know one person well, namely Lady Lubbock, who is a very nice person, absorbed with the education of nearly a dozen very nice children.— I wish, with all my heart that we were, as you say, rather nearer, but remember we are near London & that in effect is being near everyone.— They heard of you the other day at Shrewsbury from Col. Egerton,² who spoke much of you.— my Father likes Col. Egerton particularly & he must be a very pleasant neighbour for you.— But I fear this last sentence & all that speaks of pleasure grates on your feelings—

I trust you are well bodily & believe me | Ever yours— C. Darwin