I have but one thought, Susie, this afternoon of June, and
that of you, and I have one prayer, only; dear Susie, that is
for you. That you and I in hand as we e’en do in heart, might
ramble away as children, among the woods and fields, and
forget these many years, and these sorrowing cares, and
each become a child again — I would it were so, Susie, and
when I look around me and find myself alone, I sigh for you
again; little sigh, and vain sigh, which will not bring you home.

I need you more and more, and the great world grows wider,
and dear ones fewer and fewer, every day that you stay
away — I miss my biggest heart; my own goes wandering
round, and calls for Susie — Friends are too dear to sunder,
Oh they are far too few, and how soon they will go away
where you and I cannot find them, don’t let us forget these
things, for their remembrance now will save us many an
anguish when it is too late to love them! Susie, forgive me
Darling, for every word I say — my heart is full of you, none
other than you is in my thoughts, yet when I seek to say to
you something not for the world, words fail me. If you were
here — and Oh that you were, my Susie, we need not talk at
all, our eyes would whisper for us, and your hand fast in
mine, we would not ask for language — I try to bring you
nearer, I chase the weeks away till they are quite departed,
and fancy you have come, and I am on my way through the
green lane to meet you, and my heart goes scampering so,
that I have much ado to bring it back again, and learn it to be
patient, till that dear Susie comes. Three weeks — they can’t
last always, for surely they must go with their little brothers
and sisters to their long home in the west!

I shall grow more and more impatient until that dear day
comes, for till now, I have only mourned for you; now I begin
to hope for you.

Dear Susie, I have tried hard to think what you would love, of
something I might send you — I at last say my little Violets,
they begged me to let them go, so here they are — and with
them as Instructor, a bit of knightly grass, who also begged
the favor to accompany them — they are but small, Susie,
and I fear not fragrant now, but they will speak to you of warm
hearts at home, and of something faithful which “never
slumbers nor sleeps” — Keep them ‘neath your pillow, Susie,
they will make you dream of blue-skies, and home, and the
“blessed contrie”! You and I will have an hour with “Edward”
and “Ellen Middleton”, sometime when you get home — we
must find out if some things contained therein are true, and if
they are, what you and me are coming to!

Now, farewell, Susie, and Vinnie sends her love, and mother
her’s, and I add a kiss, shyly, lest there is somebody there!
Don’t let them see, will you Susie?