My dear Fanny
Your poor dear letter has almost made me cry. It comes at a moment when I happen to feel in very low spirits, and I cannot tell you how grieved I feel to think that your affectionate remembrance of me in sending the poor fawn should only have bought you disappointment and vexation. I wish I was with you at this moment, poor kind Fan, to kiss you and tell you how much I feel about it. Of course I had no idea till now that the fawn was your present, but thought it came from Graham with the grouse; otherwise I should have written much more seriously about it in my last letter to you, and should have expressed to Dunn at the time my great regret that he had not sent it on. I cannot understand how opinions should differ as to its condition, as Dunn assured me it was too far gone to render it no use at all to send it on. I am not surprised at your great annoyance at his conduct, and can only beg you to overlook it, as no doubt he did for the best as far as he thought, and I believe he was under the impression certainly that the fawn came from Graham. But I am sure he has the most friendly feeling towards you & deserves that you should pardon him this oversight. I am beginning to get anxious for my return to London, but it seems there is no prospect whatever after all of the studio being finished this week.
It seems poor Dunn is going to Croydon—I suppose with the intention of flying from your wrath.
Last week I thought I was going to have an attack of gum-boil such as you had, but it went off after giving me a great deal of pain. I have not felt so well lately as at first, but the weather has been very changeable.
With love, your affectionate
P.S. You don’t say how much Lucy’s wages are. I send you a cheque for 6£ as I suppose they are not more than that. Please let me know you get it safely.