This day makes me think of our dear kind Grandmama, whose image still dwells amongst us! None who ever knew her can forget how truly lovable she was; and we grandchildren will ever retain such a bright recollection of her. So many little attentions, small souvenirs, kind letters, all tokens of affection so pleasing to the receivers.
Yesterday Louis saved a lady from drowning. He was bathing. The waves were high, and he heard a cry for help, and saw a bather struggling. She had lost her footing. Her husband tried to help her, but was exhausted and let her go; equally so the brother-in-law, and Louis felt he was losing his strength, but she kept her presence of mind and floated. He let her go once till a wave brought her near him again, and he caught her hand and brought her in, feeling quite done himself. I was not in the sea at the time, for the waves were so tremendous that I lost my footing several times, and had come out, fearing an accident. The lady is a Mrs. T. Sligo, a Scotchwoman, and she has just written to me to thank Louis. He is a good swimmer, and very strong. The gentlemen are two grey-haired Scotchmen.
Ella has so wonderfully improved since she has been here. She is no more pale and languid, and Ernie is another child also.
Luckily it has not been warm, so the air and baths are doubly efficacious. They have done me a world of good. I feel quite different to what I have done ever since Sunny’s birth. I believe the sea to be the only thing for such a relaxed state, and, being strong and healthy by nature, I can’t bear not being well, and feeling so weak. Miss Graves has returned, but the girls have been very good—no trouble at all.
Kranichstein, August 26th.
On dear Papa’s birthday I must send you a few lines. The past is ever bright and vivid in my mind, though year after year intervenes. How must it be for you, who live surrounded by such precious recollections of the happy past!
I think doubly of you to-day, and doubly tenderly, sweet Mama!
I got home quite right, and found the house here cold. There was no sun, and our rooms being to the north, and the wood so near, makes them feel chilly.
I am glad dear Leopold bore the journey well. The air will do him good in his weakened state.
The day at Laeken was quiet and pleasant. Marie is still thinner, and more aged, I think. The loss of that nice boy weighs on them still, and they spoke much about it, and she with many tears.