
I am sorry to hear of your being kept in with rheumatism. I am afraid you have been suffering a good deal. And just at this spring time it is such a pleasure to be out and about. I hope by the time this reaches you you may be well again. You will
miss the Gilchrists a good deal. I had a letter from Grace about a fortnight ago telling me of their move. She seems to be wanting to get back to England. Herbert I suppose is travelling about a bit. I feel sorry that the household in North 22 street is broken up—I so often look back to those few days I spent there. I wonder whether we shall all meet again in England. Is there still a chance of
your coming?
My winter's work of lecturing is over now; I have had a very pleasant time of it—though living a rather solitary life. I was lecturing in 3 towns—York, Sheffield and Chesterfield. I made the last my headquarters, and then went once a week to York, twice to Sheffield and gave a lecture every week in Chesterfield. The people write answers to the questions in the lecture and then send up papers which I look over & return to them. It is interesting work because one
has all sorts of people—men & women young and old of all conditions of life—except the poorest. And one gets to know a good many of them. We had a jolly excursion the other day into the country near Sheffield—a sort of geological open air science ramble. About 70 people came old & young, respectables & non respectables, and it was very friendly & pleasant.
I am staying here now with my friend Cotterill who has just returned from African explorations. And in a few days I am going home to Brighton. I met a brother of Edward Dowden's here a day or two ago—a parson—a pleasant sort of fellow—Irish. Thank Harry Stafford for me please for his letter. If he gets a photograph of himself done any time, I should like one.
With love dear friend Yours Edward Carpenter