‘“O you horrid girl, it’s alive!” exclaimed the poor old gentleman, forgetting his politeness in his sudden alarm and disgust.
‘Baby is now thriving nicely, and getting quite fat. It is funny to see her looking at the picture of the white kittens and cherries. She gets quite excited, trying to clutch hold of the cherries with her tiny hands.’
TO MISS ‘LEILA’ HAMILTON.
‘May 12, 1871.
‘Many thanks, my sweet Leila, for your affectionate letter, and also for your kindness in going to see Sarah Jones.
‘My darling Letitia! Notwithstanding all that has passed since she was last pressed to my heart, the sudden blow of her loss has left, I think, a deeper scar than any trial before or after it. I seldom mention her name; and now my heart seems rising into my throat as I write of her....
‘I feel tired, dear one, so will not write a long letter. I had a long business walk before luncheon, and then the overland letter to Uncle Willy to write, and a great deal of proof-sheet of the Lady of Provence to correct.’
TO MRS. J. BOSWELL.
‘Nov. 13, 1872.
‘I am very busy, for there seems an almost endless field for work in making foreign wall-texts; quite a new occupation for me. In Italy and Spain they will now be warmly welcomed,—India, Syria, China, Labrador, all offer openings. I feel it so gracious in my dear Master to give me this little work for Him, now that the power of composing seems to be taken away. I find delight in going over and over the precious texts, which I have to copy in various tongues. I do not think that I ever before so realised their sweetness. I tried to gild my own little works with Scripture truths; but now I have pure gold to give to others,—without admixing with it any alloy of my own.’