It cannot be for long. My brothers and
sisters, their children, and my faithful Amos Bell, are very good to
me; and in writing up to that mezzo termine of our lives, I have
been living it over again with my brother of brothers, through the
troubles that have become like joys.
REMARKS.
Uncle Edward has not said half enough about his dear old self. I
want to know if he never was unhappy when he was young about being
LIKE THAT, though mother says his face was always nearly as
beautiful as it is now. And it is not only goodness. It IS
beautiful with his sweet smile and snowy white hair. ELLEN WINSLOW.
And I wonder, though perhaps he could not have told, what Aunt Anne
would have done if Uncle Clarence had not been so forbearing before
he went to China. CLARE FRITH.
The others are highly impertinent questions, but we ought to know
what became of Lady Peacock. ED. G. W.
REPLY.
Poor woman, she drifted back to London after about ten years, with
an incurable disease. Clarence put her into lodgings near us, and
did his best for her as long as she lived. He had a hard task, but
she ended by saying he was her only friend.
To question No. 2 I have nothing to say; but as to No. 1, with its
extravagant compliment, Nature, or rather God, blessed me with even
spirits, a methodical nature that prefers monotony, and very little
morbid shyness; nor have I ever been devoid of tender care and love.
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