You will not have forgotten my bright girl Marian, who married so happily and with such bright prospects half a dozen years ago?
Well, she died three days ago of a sudden attack of pneumonia, which carried her off almost without warning. And I cannot convey to you a sense of the terrible sufferings of the last three years better than by saying that I, her father, who loved her well, am glad that the end has come thus…
My poor wife is well nigh crushed by the blow. For though I had lost hope, it was not in the nature of things that she should.
Don't answer this—I have half a mind to tear it up—for when one is in a pool of trouble there is no sort of good in splashing other people.
Ever yours,
T.H. Huxley.
[As for his plans, he writes to Sir J. Hooker on November 21:—]
I had set my heart on seeing you get the Copley on the 30th. In fact, I made the Manchester people, to whom I had made a promise to go down and address the Technical Education Association, change their day to the 29th for that reason.
I cannot leave them in the lurch after stirring up the business in the way I have done, and I must go and give my address. But I must get back to my poor wife as fast as I can, and I cannot face any more publicity than that which it would be cowardly to shirk just now. So I shall not be at the Society except in the spirit.
Ever yours,