I am going to Frankfort with ever so many poor wives to take leave of their husbands, who march to-day.
The heat is awful. I have no time to think of myself, or I daresay I should have heat, etc., to complain of. Being still off and on with Louis, and having things to do, keeps me up; but when he is gone, and I have no man here to reassure me, it will be dreadful.
I must close. * * * Letters from home now are such a pleasure; do let any one write to me sometimes to give me news of you all. Your own child,
Alice.
Darmstadt, July 1st.
* * * The parting now was so hard! and he feels it so dreadfully. I can scarcely manage to write. The heat, besides, is overpowering. Our dear wedding-day four years ago! Four years of undisturbed, real, and increasing happiness. How I thank and bless the Almighty for them, and how fervently I pray that we may live over this most bitter trial!
* * * Whether Henry is engaged or not we don’t know, and can get no news of him. At any rate he is cut off from news of us and the rest of Germany; and, as our army is moving, and he is on the extreme wing, at any moment he may find himself opposite to his own brothers and countrymen. It is most painful, and has been to my poor father-in-law a great shock, as we all hoped he had got away. Please let my brothers know this. They will feel for this unheard-of position for three brothers to be in. * * *
Dear Lady Ely is a comfort and support to me, and it was quite a relief to Louis to leave her with me. We are both so grateful that she came. Christa is quite out of sorts about her country, and sees every thing black. Marie is low about her brother; and we are so in the middle of it all, that an English person who has no one concerned in it all is really a relief.
I am so glad that you are pleased with the little ones. You be sure, I know, not to let them get in the way of infection, if there is still any.
July 3d.