Father is better, and we are all so grateful, for just now we want all to be bright for our boy.
The end is not far off, but Father rallies wonderfully from each feeble spell, and keeps serene and happy through everything.
I don't ask to keep him now that life is a burden, and am glad to have him go before it becomes a pain. We shall miss the dear old white head and the feeble saint so long our care; but as Anna says, "He will be with Mother." So we shall be happy in the hope of that meeting.
Sunday he seemed very low, and I was allowed to drive in and say "good-by." He knew me and smiled, and kissed "Weedy," as he calls me, and I thought the drowsiness and difficulty of breathing could not last long. But he revived, got up, and seemed so much as usual, I may be able to see him again. It is a great grief that I am not there as I was with Lizzie and Mother, but though much better, the shattered nerves won't bear much yet, and quiet is my only cure.
I sit alone and bless the little pair like a fond old grandmother. You show me how to do it. With love to all,
Yours ever,
Lu.
Her last note. To Mrs. Bond.
February 8, 1888.
Air,–"Haste to the Wedding."