P. S.—Just received your dear note. The accounts of my dear Emily’s sad end have just reached me, and I am terribly upset. You can hardly estimate the gap, the blank she will leave—my only lady, and in many ways homme d’affaires. We had been so much together this last waiting; every thing reminds me of her, and of the touching love she bore me. Surely some years more she would have lived.
Darling Mama, I don’t think you quite know how far from well I am, and how absurdly wanting in strength. I only mention it, that you should know that until the good air has set me up I am good for next to nothing; and I fear I sha’n’t be able to come to dinner the first evenings. I hope you won’t mind. I have never in my life been like this before. I live on my sofa, and in the air, and see no one, and yet go on losing strength! Of course this unexpected shock has done me harm too, and has entailed more sad things. * * *
Douglas’ Hotel, Edinburgh, Sunday, September 11th.
* * * I hear Ernie is still so dull and melancholy at missing me; he always feels it most, with that tender loving heart of his. God preserve and guard this to me so inexpressibly precious child! I fancy that seldom a mother and child so understood each other, and loved each other, as we two do. It requires no words; he reads in my eyes, as I do in his, what is in his little heart.
It is so wonderfully still here, not a soul in the streets. The people of the house have sent up several times to enquire when and to what church I was going; so I shall go, as it seems to shock them, one’s staying away. I shall see the Monument this afternoon, and go and see Holyrood again. The whole journey here brought back with the well-remembered scenery the recollection of my childhood, all the happy journeys with dear Papa and you. How the treasured remembrance, with the deep love, lives on, when all else belongs to the past!
I seem, in returning here, so near you and him in former happy years, when my home was in this beloved country. No home in the world can quite become what the home of one’s parents and childhood was. There is a sacredness about it, a feeling of gratitude and love for the great mercies one had there. You, who never left country, Geschwister [kindred], or home, can scarcely enter into this feeling.
In the hopes of meeting you soon, kissing your dear hands, with thanks for all goodness, and many excuses for having caused so much trouble. * * *
Buckingham Palace, October 19th.
I was so sad at parting with you yesterday. I could not half thank you for all your love and kindness during those weeks. But you know how deeply I feel it; how truly grateful I am to you; how happy and contented I am to be allowed to be near you as in old days. Darling Mama, once more, thousand thanks for all and for every thing!
The journey went quite well, and I am not particularly tired.