and she has them to support. She talked very
rationally about the war, and says not a soul at the South would have
slavery back if they could.... I called at Mrs. B.'s yesterday--at
exactly the right moment, she said; for five surgeons had just decided
that the operation had been a failure, and that she must die. Her
husband looked as white as this paper, and the girls were in great
distress, but Mrs. B. looked perfectly radiant.

_Saturday, March 5th._--Yesterday I went to make a ghostly call on Mrs.
B., and kept her and the girls screaming with laughter for an hour,
which did me lots of good, and I hope did not hurt them. I have written
the 403d page of my serial to-day, and hope it is the last. It will soon
be time to think of the spring shopping. I don't know what any of us
need, and never notice what people are wearing unless I notice by going
forth on a tour of observation.

_Sunday Evening._--After church this afternoon Mrs. N. and Mrs. V. came
in to tell us about the death of that servant of theirs, whom they
nursed in their own house, who has been dying for seven months, of
cancer. She died a most fearless, happy death, and I wish I knew I
should be as patient in my last illness as they represent her as being.
Your letters to the children came yesterday afternoon to their great
delight. In an evil moment I told the boys that I had seen it stated, in
some paper, that _benzole_ would make paper transparent, and afterwards
evaporate and leave the paper uninjured. They drove me raving distracted
with questions about it, so that I had to be put in a strait-jacket. The
ingenuity and persistence of these questions, asked by each, in separate
interviews, was beyond description.

_Tuesday._--For once I have been caught napping, and have not mailed my
weekly letter. But you will be expecting some irregularity about the
time of your flight to Berlin. I called at Mrs. M.'s to-day, and ran on
at such a rate that Mrs. Woolsey, who was there, gave me ten dollars for
poor folks, and said she wished I'd stay all day. Afterwards I went down
town to get Stepping Heavenward for Mr. C., and as he wanted me to write
something in it, have just written this: "Mr. C. from Mrs. Prentiss,
in loving memory of one who 'did outrun' us, and stepped into heaven
first." Mr. Bates showed me a half-column notice of it in the Liberal
Christian, [3] of all places! by very far the warmest and best of all
that have appeared. Papa is at Dr. McClint