“It grieves us to hear how your sorely needed holiday has been turned into a day of sadness and mourning by these two deaths. Dr. Hodgson’s must have been such a terrible shock, and from its circumstances have brought upon you so much to try you, in addition to the personal loss. We women have lost in him a friend such as we shall not see again, and he was one of the few left in this dull generation who could fight with wit as well as earnestness, and had always a good story to clinch an argument.
“I cannot hear of all the good work going on without a pang at being so unable to join in any of it, and all my idleness and care of my useless self has not brought me any nearer, that I can see or feel, towards ever joining in it again!... We go to Florence and then to Rome, where I hope we shall see you in the Christmas holidays. With love from us both, ever, dear Miss Buss,
“Your affectionate
“Maria G. Grey.”
In November, Mrs. Grey writes again—
“Your letter made us very sad. The loss of two such friends as Dr. Hodgson and Miss Chessar coming upon you under such circumstances, and so close together, was enough to break you down utterly, but, as you do not mention your health, we trust it did not suffer. We cannot help hoping that the distressing effect will have worn away enough to let your old elasticity of spirits and love of Rome restore you, and that we may yet have the pleasure of welcoming you here at Christmas.”
Miss Buss had written to say that Rome was not possible for this year, and in response Miss Shirreff speaks of one part of her letter—
“How true is what you say of the terrible void in one’s life from the loss of early friends, but, believe me, dear Miss Buss, later friendships may become very close and dear, and you are far indeed from having overpast the age for making them. Those to whom mental sympathy has always been the strong, if not the strongest, link in friendship, have in this case a great advantage over others, because, while we outlive other and lighter needs of our nature, the need for mental companionship never is lost, and this enjoyment can never cease to give, after close affection, the truest zest to life. It is therefore never too late to meet with it, though we become slower in discerning it when it exists. But you have not reached that point, and with the full vigour of mental faculty you are ready to seize the full enjoyment of what responds to your own nature. In hours of sorrow we are so apt to feel the burden of years that we acquiesce too readily in the privations they seem to bring.
“I hope your quiet holiday-time spent with your old friend will send you back strengthened and hopeful to your work. I cannot express how much we feel your goodness in having added to it the guidance of this new school (the Maria Grey Training School) through its difficult early years. Mrs. Grey joins in love, and says she will write another day.
“Ever affectionately yours,