I have not stirred out, even to the Weigh House, nor seen the street except for the window, since we parted the last time you were in London. The late severe weather compelled me to this. I feel the good effects of this house-keeping, inasmuch as I have not had another attack, and fear to venture over the threshhold just now. It was well I could do this, for Mr Cowder has been wholly absent a whole month from illness and Mr Boykett nearly the same time from the same cause. Thus I had no assistance whatever, and well worn-down with work. Mr. C. is now here, but not in thorough working order. I desire much to see you, but you must come to me. Mark—you must.

I expect that B. will be about in the afternoon.