" He says he
hopes that man is dead; and I assure him that he is dead, dead, dead,
and can send no more poisoned shirts to anybody. It happened to be a
woman, however, sad to tell, but I thought I would not reveal to him
the terrible story of Dejanira and the wicked Nessus. Una is
whittling, but at this instant runs off to help Mary Beekman to do
something. Mr. Hawthorne has retired to his Study. Baby sleeps.
Good-by, dear mother. Love to your household. Your loving child,
SOPHIA.
DEAREST MOTHER,--To-day I took Julian for a walk. He waited to speak
to his beloved Mr. Tappan, who was in his field. Julian picked up one
sheaf after another, and carried them to him, calling, "Mr. Tappan!
Mr. Tappan! Here are your oats!" Mr. Tappan turned at last, smiling,
and thanked him for his help. The afternoon was so beautiful that
every incident seemed like a perfect jewel on a golden crown. The load
of yellow sheaves, the rainbow child, the Castilian with his curls and
dark smiling eyes [Mr. Tappan]--every object was a picture which
Murillo could not paint. I waited for Julian till he ran to me; and
when we came into our yard, there was lady baby in her carriage, in a
little azure robe, looking like a pale star on a blue sky. We came
into the dining-room, and out of the window there was this grand and
also exquisite picture--lake, meadow, mountains; forever new, forever
changing; now so rich with this peculiar autumn sunshine, like which
my husband says there is nothing in the world.
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