12 April 1853

Dear Austin.

You asked me in your Sat morning's letter to write you so you'd hear from me yesterday, but your letter did'nt get here until last evening, so you see I could not very well; but I must write a word this noon, to tell you that they've both come, tho' they tarried upon the way.

I thanked you for the long one in my letter of Saturday, but I want to thank you again, it was such a beautiful one, and too, for yesterday's wh' I did not expect. Sue was here when it came, and we read it together. I staid with her Saturday evening, and we spent part of it reading your long letter to me, and talking of what it made us both think of, and of you. Sue thought t'was the most beautiful letter she ever heard.

I have taken your place Saturday evening, since you have been away, but I will give it back to you as soon as you get home. Get home dear Austin - how soon now you are coming, and how happy we are in the thought of seeing you! I cant realize that you will come - it is so still and lonely, that it dont seem possible it can be otherwise, but we shall see, when the nails hang full of coats again, and the chairs hang full of hats, and I can count the slippers under the kitchen chair. Oh Austin, how we miss them, and more than them, somebody who used to hang them there, and get many a hint ungentle, to carry them away. Those times seem far off now, a great way, as things we did when children. I wish we were children now. I wish we were always children, how to grow up I dont know.

We had company to tea last evening, Mr and Mrs Jewett, and little Henry, then Mr Haven, and Sue - it seems much more like home to have her with us always, than to have her away. We had a delightful evening. How often we thought of you, and wished you were not away!

Father went home with Sue. I think he and mother both think a great deal of her, and nobody will make me believe that they dont think she is their's, just as much as Vinnie or you or me. Perhaps I am mistaken, but I can most always tell anything that I want to. Emmons brought me a beautiful boquet of Arbutus, last evening - it's the first I have seen this year. Cousin John has made us an Aeolian Harp, which plays beautifully, alone, whenever there is a breeze.

Austin, you must'nt care if your letters do not get here just when you think they will - they are always new to us, and delightful always, and the more you send us, the happier we shall be. We all send our love to you, and think much and say much, of seeing you again - keep well till you come, and if knowing that we all love you, makes you happier, then Austin, you may sing the whole day long!

Aff

Emilie.

We now expect to send your valise in a day or two, by Mr Wm Cutler.