spirits, as those who might chance to be with me. You would understand, from instinct, that it was simply one way of "putting the best foot forward."
How strange it is, to be sitting here, holding in my hand a pen, wherewith I relieve myself by saying anything I please to you; laying aside, very often, this same pen, which seems to my spirit to actually touch you, that I may moisten the parched lips lying close by my side, powerless to do anything more than accept the cooling draught. The kind physician comes in often and sits awhile; but gives no medicine. She has taken nothing but the drops of water for nine days; and all her requests are, "Please take me home; please take me home." Mr. C ——, slowly recovering, sits down by her, and promises to take her home before Christmas. She believes in him. Man is ever a gospel to woman from her earliest youth. But how shall he redeem his promise?
Nov. 21st. My dear mother, to-day's mail brought your invaluable letter, which has been read very often, in curious little scraps of time;
