 | Berkeley papers |  |
I cannot tell you how much I have missed you already and
have begun now to count the days that must elapse before your return.
I shall certainly expect at least one or two letters from you,
and as soon as you can let me know the precise day that you will
reach home, that I may have everything ready to give you a pleasant
welcome. Our house looks cold and deserted now and I would not have
you find it so when you come back. We went to town this morning,
and heard Mr. Manning preach. I remembered my precious husband at
the communion table and wished that he could be with me. I hope,
however you have spent a pleasant profitable sabbath day where you
are, better indeed than we often spend when happy in each other's
society. To-night Mr. Meade preached for us, his text being the latter
portion of the parable of the prodigal son. I do miss you sadly,
my dearest, but for so short a time at least, it certainly would be
very ungrateful and wrong to repine. I shall try my usual remedy
for loneliness, a renewed diligence in work, and I hope I shall not
be tempted to wish any of our valuable time to be hastened or shortened
when it may be turned to so good account. I felt so lonely yesterday
when I heard the whistle of the cars, and knew it was the
signal for a first separation between me and my loved husband. I
cannot help feeling some uneasiness about your sickness, and so
many dangers are travellers subjected to now, that I cannot feel
that you are safe until I actually see you again. But I know that
such fears are unworthy a Christian, and try continually to think
with renewed confidence of the kind providence which has hitherto
preserved us both, and being all powerful is fully able to keep you
in perfect safety although surrounded by circumstances of peril.
I pray that God may keep my dear Frank and return him to me in
health & happiness. I must stop for to-night but will try to add a
few words in the morning. Good-night dearest. I dare say we will
both go to sleep thinking of each other. Your devoted wife. M.S.S.
Monday. I have a great deal to say to you, but find that the mail
hour has come and cannot run the risk of not sending what is already
said. Can you not get a frame for St. Cecelia? Yours most affectionately.
M. S. S. I have a great horror of my letter going to the
dead letter office. I will write to-morrow again.
Monday night. My dear Frank, I am ashamed to send you such a rambling
letter. I could not get it into the post-office this morning
and feel as if I must add a few words at least, just to let you
know that all is well with us. Christmas has passed in a most
gloomy manner here as might have been expected, and indeed nothing
else would seem appropriate under present circumstances. Sarah
Courtenay tells me that her Aunt speaks of returning with you, but
I suppose they spoke to you about it in order that you might not
pass through Baltimore without their knowledge. I went to see Sarah
this evening, and found the whole family wonderfully supported under
their heavy affliction. Sunday morning as neither of my scholars
were present at Sunday school, I took charge of your little class,
and was much interested in teaching them. Mr. Kean was here Sunday
and walked home with me from church. He expressed great regret
our own home. If you have no objection, when you let me know the
day for your return, I can invite [OMITTED]
and you can ask him yourself [OMITTED]
I will probably spend several days [OMITTED]
your absence. I am glad for [OMITTED](torn to get stamp)
is so clear, but it must be [OMITTED]
I am sure the shawl must [OMITTED]
Ma gave me a very pretty present [OMITTED]
case. If you could conveniently would it not be wise to get some
cards printed for us. Mrs. Cabeal sent us some nice oranges &
malaga grapes with jelly etc. I wish you could have been here to
eat some, but no doubt in New York you are bountifully supplied with
things of every description. I hope taht you are well enough now
to enjoy everything around you. I am so anxious my dearest to hear
from you, and rather expected to receive a letter to-day. Good bye
again dearest.
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