Normally news of your return, even if it was for difficult reasons, would be a delight to me but you find me at a bad time for unexpected entertaining. I will be away from London for the better part next week and I cannot say, given how well the introduction goes, if I shall be returning with in the fortnight or not.
Although, as always, I wish that I shall return, pray for me that I do not. Fortune has been very kind, very kind indeed to us this new acquaintance and if it will be kinder still my search for a social and political haven in England could very soon be over. I cannot tell you too much more, M, as I know both that it is tempting fate to make plans that could so easily be undone by the simple dislike of my face or manner; and again because I do not want to hurt you, my dearest, dearest M.
My health is well assured, although father is unwell. He has had the doctor who recommended a diet of broth rich in bone marrow and plenty of rest. It appears simply the weaknesses of age which have caught up with him and we are happy that such attentions should right his spirits soon enough but he is to frail to make a long journey from London and he would not enjoy the festivities if he had to be abed while everyone else was making merry downstairs.
Forgive me. While you wrote in haste I have quite given my whole thoughts over to you and now find I have none left that would amuse you. How is your health? Is the crew hurt or did you suffer only small damages? Are your finances fixed well for the repairs? Even if we cannot see one and other I might at least give you some small token of my thoughts of you.