I had a pleasant journey home, arriving safely at my own door; but not quite so pleasant an one as I went upstairs. * * It grieves my heart to think that I am not any nearer at present than I was to get to the Bible Meeting, and my Quarterly Meeting! but I find I am not up to the exertions necessary. It is heart-breaking to me, almost, to miss a Bible Meeting; this is the first I ever omitted, and I did not with any certainty look forward to another; I can truly say that I give it up most unwillingly, but “His will be done!”
I am come home with a cold, but nothing to make me regret one hour spent at Cromer; so many dear friends to see, some new ones to welcome, and more enamoured of Cromer than ever. Farewell! I must lie down and hope to sleep.
Thy ever affectionate,
A. Opie.
Three months later she wrote:—
I shall probably never be able to go out again; and the idea of being confined to my bed is anything but disagreeable, what a mercy this is! but thankfully as well as reverently, I can repeat, “His mercies are new every morning.” I must, however, own, that being unable to go to meeting is a continually recurring trial; but I hope by spring, if I live so long, I may have contrived a way to get there again. All I ask is to be made more and more resigned to the Divine will, whatever it may be.
In January, 1853, her long-loved and honoured friend, Lucy Aggs, died; she writes of this event in one of her notes:—
(1st mo. 23rd, 1853.) She is indeed gone home; this morning she slept her last, like a wearied child; how sudden her removal! This day month she was with me, and at meeting twice! how trying to me and to others is this event; but how blest to her. I am grieved more than I can express; and am almost selfish enough to forget that our great loss is her abundant gain.
During the course of the summer many of Mrs. Opie’s relatives visited her; their presence seemed greatly to cheer and comfort her; and she frequently spoke of the pleasure it gave her to see them all; on one occasion particularly, she remarked, “I know not how it is, but my cousins and friends seem as though they felt their leave-taking were the last. My cousin R. W. came back twice to shake hands with me. Would that the Baron had been with them!”
The strong feeling of family attachment which characterized Mrs. Opie through life, was retained to the last. She evinced the deepest sympathy with her beloved cousin, Lady Milman, whom she knew to be dying, (and who, in fact, survived her but a very short time,) constantly inquiring for her, and suggesting anything which occurred to her mind as likely to contribute to her comfort, expressing her joy that the confidence of this dear relative was like her own, placed in the blessed promises of the gospel, and thus secure for eternity.