It is thought that D.[[4]] will be released to-morrow.—Good-night, my own Wifie. YOUR LOVING HUSBAND.
April 7, 1882.
MY OWN DEAREST WIFIE,—I am so happy from receiving your letter of the 5th to-day, although part of what you say about our daughter makes me very anxious indeed.
I hope the poor little thing will soon get over it. Her hair is absolutely lovely. I am so glad it is more like Queenie's than mine, although there is enough of mine in it to spoil it somewhat and render it less beautiful than Wifie's. Still, there is a splendid golden tint in it which is quite exceptional.
Wifie need not feel at all anxious about me or anything which the Government are likely to do or be able to do. Although there have been one or two bad events things are getting much quieter every day. D. is going abroad and will not even appear in the House for a couple of months. My mother's health has, I fear, become very much broken latterly, and after a time I think of applying to go over to see her, but I must try and get O. K.[[5]] out first.
I am still keeping very well, although have missed the ball-playing very much for the last three weeks, as O. K., who used to play with me, has been ill. I think my weight is very good considering the hard exercise I have been taking and the good condition I am in. I hope my precious one is getting strong again and that she will have some good news to tell me of our little daughter when she writes next.
YOUR OWN LOVING HUSBAND.
I will not speak of my anguish when I found that the child of my love was slowly dying, and that the doctors I called in could do nothing for her. Slowly she faded from me, daily gaining in that far-reaching expression of understanding that dying children have so strongly, and my pain was the greater in that I feared her father would never see her now.
Willie was very good; I told him my baby was dying and I must be left alone. He had no suspicion of the truth, and only stipulated that the child should be baptized at once—urged thereto, I think, by his mother and sister. I had no objection to this. Parnell and I had long before agreed that it would be safer to have the child christened as a Catholic, and he had no feeling at all against the Catholic religion, considering, indeed, that for those who required a religion it was an admirable one. I made an altar of flowers in my drawing-room, as the child was much too ill to be taken to church, and there the priest, Father Hart, came and baptized Sophie Claude. Sophie, after Parnell's sister, Claude, after Lord Truro, an old friend of mine.
A few days before the death of my baby I had the unspeakable comfort of knowing that Parnell could come to me for a few hours and perhaps see his child while she lived. His nephew, son of his sister Delia (Mrs. Thomson), had died in Paris, and the authorities gave Parnell leave on "parole" to attend the young man's funeral. A brilliant, handsome fellow, great sympathy was felt with the parents of this only son.