August 14 1852 My own Douglas This is Saturday night and you can scarcely conceive how dull I feel without you and how often I think of you. I have been confined to the house all day sorting letters, burning old useless papers, talking to natives and as 11 o'clock strikes I am just conveying my love to you which is ever as constant and durable as the sun that shines over us. The confinement and damp weather has given me a slight cold so my attendant has boiled a kettleful of water and placed a tub in my bedroom that I may bathe