mid-March 1883

Dear friend,

In these few Weeks of ignorance of you, we trust that you are growing stronger, and drawing near that sweet Physician, an approaching spring - for the ear of the Heart hears Blue Birds already - those enthralling Signals - I could scarcely have believed, the Morning you called with Mr Brownell that I should eventually speak with you, and you only, with the exception of my Sister, of my dearest earthly friend, though the great confidences of Life are first disclosed by their departure - and I feel that I ceaselessly ought to thank you, were it now indelicate. Our Household is scarcely larger than your's - Vinnie and I, and two Servants, composing our simple Realm, though my Brother is with us so often each Day, we almost forget that he ever passed to a wedded Home. I wish I could show you the Hyancinths that embarass us by their loveliness, though to cower before a flower is perhaps unwise - but Beauty is often timidity - perhaps oftener - pain.

A soft "Where is she" is all that is left of our loved Mother, and thank you for all you told us of your's. Please remember me to the Brother who loved my lost friend.

Faithfully,

E. Dickinson.