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Tuesday, April 25, 1882.
MY OWN QUEENIE,—I enclose you a letter. What do you think I had best say to it?[[1]]
I told my friend in Jermyn Street what steps to take, so that the matter referred to in enclosed will probably go on all right without, or with, the further participation of the writer. I thought of writing him that I had received his note too late to reply for Wednesday, but that in any case my letter from Paris ought to be sufficient indication of confidence.
I missed nine train on Sunday and came on by twelve, sleeping at Crewe and getting on board mail boat before mail train arrived. Everything went off very nicely and quietly, and I have not caught any cold this time. O. K. had aired my bed very carefully, etc., and they were all very glad to see me again, with the exception of the authorities.
I have been thinking all day of how desolate and lonely my Queenie must be in her great sorrow. I wish so much that I might have stayed to comfort her, but I have indeed every hope and confidence that our separation will not now last very long. It is too terrible to think that on this the saddest day[[2]] of all others—and, let us hope, the saddest that we both shall ever see again—my Wifie should have nobody with her.
Good-bye, my own darling, YOUR LOVING KING.
Mr. Parnell wrote as follows to Captain O'Shea:—
KILMAINHAM,
April 28.