And again on the 27th of October:—
‘Try, dear one, to comfort others; and then you will find comfort yourself. This is a world of suffering; and the best Memorial to your precious Mother will be something that will be a blessing to others. To think of what she would have approved will be a solace to your mind.’
On the same day she wrote to her nephew, the Rev. W. F. T. Hamilton: ‘I go on with my daily Mission work; it seems what I have specially to live for. Is it not possible that your sainted Mother takes an interest in it still?’
In the first letter to Mrs. J. Boswell, after receiving the telegram, she spoke more openly of her own feelings:—
‘Oct. 23.— ... Your letter to Lettie, which I saw at Pindi, before my own followed me there, quite prepared me for Edith’s thoughtful telegram. I received that telegram at the Batala station, after my long dark night’s journey back from Pindi. I thank and bless God for my precious sister’s bliss; but to me the blank——! I suppose that the funeral will be to-morrow; in thought I follow my poor bereaved Leila,—but my mind dwells less on the grief of those left, than the joy of her who is with her Saviour. I thanked God for her to-day at Holy Communion.
‘I hope that there will be no unnecessary gloom to-morrow. It seems to me so incongruous to throw a heavy black pall over the dear form, when the spirit is wearing the shining white robe. I hate black,—the colour of sin and spiritual death! My own beloved sister had nothing to do with either. My tears fall as I write; but I dare not, cannot, murmur; though life seems to me a weary pilgrimage. I am very home-sick, my Bella; but the Lord will call me when He knows that I am ready. He gives me some work to do for Him. I must live for that.’
And again, on the 4th of November:—
‘This has been a year of trials. Since I reached seventy, I feel as if my path had grown steeper, and flowers wither. But when the summit of the Hill is reached—what joy! I can hardly help envying my sweet Laura; and, oh, I am thankful that she was spared acute suffering! Her end—as regards this world—was indeed peace; her happiness will be never-ending. You see that I am again at Futteyghur, for about five days, to keep Miss Key company.... It was no sacrifice to me to come out to the village, for I was glad to be in a very quiet place just now. Batala is too full of friends and too cheerful for my present mood. Work is congenial; not cheerful meetings. Mrs. Corfield gave a sort of Concert on Wednesday, to which every one was invited; but I, of course, stayed at home. There is no one but Daisy Key and myself here.’
From the Journal entries it is evident that Miss Tucker gave herself only one clear day of rest—and that day a Sunday—for indulgence in any wise of her sorrow. She had the telegram on a Saturday; and on Monday the usual round of visiting went on.
‘Oct. 20.[141]— ... My precious Laura departed.’