To Mrs. J.G. Holland
The beautiful blossoms waned at last, the charm of all who knew them, resisting the effort of the earth or air to persuade them to root, as the great florist says, "The flower that never will in other climate grow."
To thank you for its fragrance would be impossible, but then its other blissful traits are more than can be numbered. And the beloved Christmas, too, for which I never thanked you. I hope the little heart is well, - big would have been the width, - and the health solaced; any news of her as sweet as the first arbutus.
Emily and Vinnie give the love greater every hour.