May ye 24th.
My Brother goes with me to-morrow on my way to
Boston. I am not a little loath to leave my dear Sister
Margaret, who hath greatlie won upon me by her gentleness
and loving deportment, and who doth at all
times, even when at work in ordering her household
Affairs, and amidst the cares and perplexities of her
new life, show forth that sweetness of Temper and that
Simplicitie wherewith I was charmed when I first saw
her. She hath naturally an ingenious Mind, and, since
her acquaintance with my Brother, hath dipped into
such of his studies and readings as she had leisure and
freedom to engage in, soe that her conversation is in no
wise beneath her station. Nor doth she, like some of
her People, especially the more simple and unlearned,
affect a painful and melancholie Look, and a canting
tone of Discourse, but lacketh not for cheerfulness, and
a certain natural ease and grace of Demeanor; and the
warmth and goodness of her Heart doth at times break
the usual quiet of her Countenance, like to sunshine
and wind on a still Water, and she hath the sweetest
smile I ever saw. I have often thought, since I have
been with her, that if Uncle Rawson could see and
hear her as I doe for a single day, he would confess
that my Brother might have done worse than to take a
Quaker to Wife.
