My dear Em.

Thank goodness this is my last note & that in two more days, you will be here—

The horse cannot go for you, so Parslow² will go up & meet you at the Train, take you 16³ & afterwards by $\frac{1}{4}$ past 3 to the Bolt-in-tun. You will come quicker this way, than by the Phaeton; I endeavoured to get the Coach call at 16, but they c^d not under some penalty— It is rather extravagant sending up Parslow, as John⁴ might have done, but I thought you w^d like it best.— Marianne must walk from the Station to 16, & I fear one Coach will not hold you to the Bolt-in-Tun.—

You had better lie down & rest at 16 & be a good girl.— I do hope you will stand the Journey well.—

I have been wonderfully strong; on Saturday I sat up reading till $\frac{1}{4}$ before eleven, not dreaming it was so late & then went to bed & never awakened till I was called.—a thing which I can hardly remember having happened to me.— I long for you to be back—for I do so enjoy being at home again. Try & remember, just before you drive in at our gate, to rise from your seat & look over the wall, & see how nice the place looks.

Farewell, my dearest. | Yours, C. D.

I can fancy poor Annies scarlet face at Minnys kisses,⁵ poor dear Boddy Bumpkins.—