March 5, 1837.
The last accounts will have prepared you—more prepared, perhaps, than I was, for hope had lived in spite of reason when life was gone—your beloved and most amiable, angelic-tempered goddaughter [Footnote: Her sister Sophy. Mrs. Barry Fox, who died March 1.] is gone. She preserved her charming mind quite clear all through, and had her mother with her, and the comfort of knowing that her children were in the care of Mr. Butler and Harriet.
To MISS MARGARET RUXTON.
EDGEWORTHSTOWN, Dec. 17, 1837.
We are very anxious indeed to hear of Sophy: [Footnote: Miss Ruxton, Miss Edgeworth's cousin and dearest friend, died at Black Castle, December 30.] the last account Harriet gave was quite alarming. I see Richard going about the house with his watch in his hand to feel Sophy's pulse, and looking so anxious. How glad he must be that he had returned home, and to Sophy what a comfort it must be, to have the certainty of his affection, and to have the earliest companion of her childhood and her manly friend beside her now! I will go to her instantly if she desires it.
I long to hear that you have had, and that you like, the Memoirs of Mr. Smedley. I am sure that, when Sophy is well enough to hear or to read anything, that book will be the very thing for her.
To MRS. EDGEWORTH.
TRIM, July 25, 1838.
Mrs. Lazarus's [Footnote: Formerly Miss Mordecai.] death did indeed shock and grieve me. But it is, as you say, the condition, the doom of advancing, advanced age, to see friend after friend go; but in proportion as it detaches one from life, it still more makes us value the friends we have left. And continually, at every fresh blow, I really wonder, and am thankful, most truly thankful, that I have so many, so much left.
To MISS MARGARET RUXTON.