I feel that I owe you an apology for being (innocently) a difficult subject. When I once excused myself to Ary Scheffer while sitting to him, he received the apology as strictly his due, and said with a vexed air: "At this moment, _mon cher_ Dickens, you look more like an energetic Dutch admiral than anything else;" for which I apologised again.
In the hope that the pains you have bestowed upon me will not be thrown away, but that your success will prove of some use to you, believe me,
GAD'S HILL PLACE, HIGHAM BY ROCHESTER, KENT, _Sunday, Oct. 6th, 1861._
Coming back here to-day, I find your letter.
I was so very much distressed last night in thinking of it all, and I find it so very difficult to preserve my composure when I dwell in my mind on the many times fast approaching when I shall sorely miss the familiar face, that I am hardly steady enough yet to refer to the readings like a man. But your kind reference to them makes me desirous to tell you that I took Headland (formerly of St. Martin's Hall, who has always been with us in London) to conduct the business, when I knew that our poor dear fellow could never do it, even if he had recovered strength to go; and that I consulted with himself about it when I saw him for the last time on earth, and that it seemed to please him, and he said: "We couldn't do better."
Write to me before you come; and remember that I go to town Wednesday mornings.
OFFICE OF "ALL THE YEAR ROUND," _Thursday, Oct. 10th, 1861._
I received your affectionate little letter here this morning, and was very glad to get it. Poor dear Arthur is a sad loss to me, and indeed I was very fond of him. But the readings must be fought out, like all the rest of life.
GAD'S HILL PLACE, HIGHAM BY ROCHESTER, KENT, _Sunday, Oct. 13th, 1861._
This is a short note. But the moment I know for certain what is designed for me at Cheltenham, I write to you in order that you may know it from me and not by chance from anyone else.
I am to read there on the evening of Friday, the 3rd of January, and on the morning of Saturday, the 4th; as I have nothing to do on Thursday, the 2nd, but come from Leamington, I shall come to you, please God, for a quiet dinner that day.
The death of Arthur Smith has caused me great distress and anxiety. I had a great regard for him, and he made the reading part of my life as light and pleasant as it _could_ be made. I had hoped to bring him to see you, and had pictured to myself how amused and interested you would have been with his wonderful tact and consummate mastery of arrangement. But it's all over.
