or she said:

All goes well here, though still very very slowly--G's mind is
gradually clearing, but it is still difficult to him to distinguish
between the real and the unreal. I am quite sure he will soon be able
to think and act for himself, but I dare not hurry matters at all. I
have told him I am writing to you often and he said, "That is
right--I'll see him soon. I want to talk to him." He wanders at
times, but the clear intervals are longer. He repeated the Creed last
night, this time in English.

To my mother:

I feel the enormous significance of the resurrection of the body
when I think of my dear husband, just consciously laying hold of life
again. Indeed, I will pray that your dear ones may be kept in safety.
God bless you for all your sympathy. I am so glad that Gilbert's
decision (for I am sure it was a decision) has made you so happy. I
dare not hurry anything, the least little excitement upsets him--last
night he said the Creed and asked me to read parts of Myers' "St.
Paul." He still wanders a good deal when tired but is certainly a
little stronger. Love and Easter blessings to you all.

We ourselves were passing then through the shadow of death. Almost as
Gilbert rose again to this life my father passed into life eternal.
One of the very few letters I possess in Gilbert's own handwriting
was also one of the first he wrote on recovery. It was to my mother:

I fear I have delayed writing to you, and partly with a vague
feeling that I might so find some way of saying what I feel on your
behalf and others'; and of course it has not come. Somewhat of what
the world and a wider circle of friends have lost I shall try to say
in the _Dublin Review_, by the kindness of Monsignor Barnes, who has
invited me to contribute to it; but of all I feel, and Frances feels,
and of the happy times we have had in your house, I despair of saying
anything at all.

I can only hope you and yours will be able to read between the
lines of what I write either here or there; and understand that the
simultaneous losses of a good friend and a fine intellect have a way
of stunning rather than helping the expression of either. I would say
I am glad he lived to see what I feel to be a rebirth of England, if
his mere presence in an older generation did not prove to me that
England never died.

This sense of the rebirth of England gave t