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Sabbath Day. I am sick today, dear Susie, and have not been to church. There has been a pleasant quiet, in which to think of you, and I have not been sick eno' that I cannot write to you. I love you as dearly, Susie, as when love first began, on the step at the front door, and under the Evergreens, and it breaks my heart sometimes, because I do not hear from you. I wrote you many days ago I wont say many weeks, because it will look sadder so, and then I cannot write but Susie, it troubles me. I miss you, mourn for you, and walk the Streets alone often at night, beside, I fall asleep in tears, for your dear face, yet not one word comes back to me from that silent West. If it is finished, tell
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me, and I will raise the lid to my box of Phantoms, and lay one more love in; but if it
lives and beats still, still lives and beats for me, then say me so, and I will strike the strings to one
more strain of happiness before I die. Why Susie think of it you are my precious Sister, and will
be till you die, and will be still, when Austin and Vinnie and Mat, and you and I are marble - and
life has forgotten us! Vinnie and I are going soon either this week or next father has not determined. I'm sure I cannot go, when I think that you are coming, and I would give the whole world if I could stay, instead. I cant believe you are coming but when I think of it, and tell myself it's so, a wondrous joy comes over me, and my old fashioned life capers as in a dream. Sue I
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take the words of that
Sweet Kate Scott, I have never seen and say "it is too blissful." I never will be "so busy" when
you get back to me, as I used to be. I'll get "my spinning done," for Susie, it steals over me once
in a little while, that as fingers fly and I am so busy, a far more wondrous Shuttle shifts the subtler
thread, and when that's web is spun, indeed my spinning will be done. I think with you, dear
Susie, and Mat by me again, I shall be still for joy. I shall not fret or murmur shall not care when
the wind blows, shall not observe the storm "Such, and so precious" are you. Austin told me about you when he came from the West though many little things I wanted most to know, he "had not noticed." I asked him how you looked, and
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what you wore, and how
your hair was fixed, and what you said of me his answers were quite limited "you looked as you
always did he did'nt know what you wore never did know what people wore you said he must
tell me everything," which by the way dear Child, he has not done to this day, and any portion of
which, I would savor with joy, might I but obtain it. Vinnie inquired with promptness "if you
wore a Basque" "it seemed to him," he said, "you did have on a black thing." Ah Susie you must train him 'twill take full many a lesson in the fashion plate, before he will respect, and speak with proper deference of this majestic garment. I have some new clothes, Susie presume I shall appear like an embarrassed Peacock, quite unused to its plumes. Dear Susie you will write to me when I am gone from home Affy, Emilie -
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