resses. She said, the other day, that at
her funeral she hoped the only services would be prayers and hymns of
praise. I think this very remarkable from one who enjoys life as she
does. [4]

_To the Same, Newport, July 20._

George and I went to Rochester, taking M. with us, last Wednesday and
got back Friday night. We had one of those visits that make a mark in
one's life; seeing Mr. and Mrs. Leonard, and Mrs. Randall, and Miss
Deborah, [5] so fond of us, and all together we were stirred up as we
rarely are, and refreshed beyond description. We rowed on Mr. Leonard's
beautiful, nameless lake, fished, gathered water-lilies, ate black
Hamburg grapes and broiled chickens, and wished you had them in our
place. Mr. L.'s mother is a sweet, calm old lady, with whom I wanted to
have a talk about Christian perfection, in which she believes; but there
was no time. It was a great rest to unbend the bow strung so high here
at Newport, where there is so much of receiving and paying visits. I
have been reading a delightful French book, the history of a saintly
Catholic family of great talent and culture, six of whom, in the course
of seven years, died the most beautiful, happy deaths. I am going to
make an abstract of it, for I want everybody I love to get the cream of
it. You would enjoy it; I do not know whether it has been translated.

_To the Same, Dorset, July 26._

Here begins my first letter to you from your old room, whence I hope to
write you regularly every week. That is the one only little thing I can
do to show how truly and constantly I sympathise with you in your sore
straits. It distresses me to hear how much you are suffering, and at the
same time not to be near enough to speak a word of good cheer, or to do
anything for your comfort. It grieves me to find how insecure my health
is, for I had promised to myself to be your loving nurse, should any
turn in your disease make it desirable. Miss Lyman boards here, but
rooms at the Sykes', and her friend Miss Warner is also here, but rooms
out. Miss W. is in delicate health, takes no tea or coffee, and is full
of humor. We have run at and run upon each other, each trying to get
the measure of the other, and shall probably end in becoming very good
friends.

It is a splendid day, and we feel perfectly at home, only missing you
and finding it queer to be occupying your room. What a nice room it is!
How I wish you were sitting here with me behind the shade of these maple