He has to pay a great penalty for the result of his toil. Not that he
has any drudgery, but he is imprisoned and in harness. He will not let
me take a pen in my hand when he is at home, because at any rate I see
him so little."
Such paragraphs as the one I add, from a little letter of my sister's,
often appear; but in this instance it was the glad exclamation of
release, just before we removed to Italy:--
"Papa will be with us on Monday, free from the terrors of the old
Consulate. Perhaps you can imagine what infinitely joyful news that is
to us; and to him, too, as much, if not more so; for he has had all
the work, and we have only suffered from his absence."
The letters proceed:--
MY DEAR FATHER,--It was delightful to see your handwriting this week,
written with the same firmness as ever. It gives me unspeakable
satisfaction to know that the drafts Mr. Hawthorne sent contribute to
your ease, and supply you with embellishments and luxuries, which in
sickness are necessaries. I only wish I could put strength into your
limbs, as well as provide you with a stuffed chair to repose them
upon. Mr. Hawthorne has wished, you see, to prevent your having any
anxiety about little wants. It will be all right for the present, and
future too. . . . I suppose the War will affect everything in a
disastrous manner, except the End, and that God will take into His own
hands for good, no doubt, though not as either party proposes.
Here in England we are wholly occupied with the War.
Pages:
252
253
254
255
256
257
258
259
260
261
262
263
264
265
266
267
268
269
270
271
272
273
274
275
276