I would moralize, but time--and my companions are coming in.
Let me hear of your health. Avoid all fatigue. Judge Yates proposes to
come down with me. Quoi faire?
My good landlady is out of tea, and begs me to send for a pound. Put
it up very well. I am in better health than spirits. Adieu.
A. BURR.
FROM MRS. BURR.
New-York, May, 1785.
I am vexed that I did not inquire your route more particularly. I
cannot trace you in imagination, nor find your spirit when at rest;
nor dare I count the hours to your return. They are still too
numerous, and add to my impatience. I expect my reward in the health
you acquire. If it should prove otherwise, how I shall hate my
acquiescence to your departure. I anticipate good or evil as my
spirits rise or fall; but I know no medium; my mind cannot reach that
stage of indifference. I fancy all my actions directed by you; this
tends to spur my industry, and give calm to my leisure.
The family as you left it. Bartow never quits the office, and is
perfectly obliging. Your dear little daughter seeks you twenty times a
day; calls you to your meals, and will not suffer your chair to be
filled by any of the family.
Judge Hobart called here yesterday; says you are absent for a month. I
do not admit that among possibilities, and therefore am not alarmed. I
feel obliged to Mr. Wickham for his delay, though I dare not give
scope to my pen; my heart dictates too freely.
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