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                                                                                                                                    Dunbarton June 19, 1851.

My dearest friend,-

                                    To'night your kind letter, dated at Chicago, reached me. I cannot tell you how rejoiced I was to hear from you, or how much I thank you for writing. I thought I would give myself the pleasure of sitting down directly to begin a letter, for it is a "perfect comfort" to write to you. In Illinois! You have found the prairie-land - but how far away! A feeling of loneliness comes over me when I think how many miles are between us. When shall I ever see you? It does seem as though I could not relinquish this pleasure which I have been hoping to enjoy. For two very long weeks I have watched every day. When the door bell rung my first thought was of you, and I have opened the door, almost expecting to greet you, but now I do not know but I shall despair. I do truly feel disappointed. But I must not write thus, for I believe you will go just where duty seems calling.
   I hope you will find just such a situation

[top, upside down] Sabbath Eve. July 20 I think I will send this letter by Mr. Wallace to be mailed at Manchester tomorrow - it may reach you a little more seasonably. It could not go from here till Tuesday afternoon. You will see, by the dates, that this sheet is somewhat ancient but I think I'll send it notwithstanding. I hope you have not been sad any to day, though probably you could not attend meeting. I have been watching the Western clouds, and thinking of my dear friend, away towards the setting sun. I wish I could do something to make you happy to night. Well, this letter is surely long enough. I only wish it were better. Write please as often as you can with your many duties, and tell me your pleasures, and plans, and troubles too. Do not forget that I have not written for a long while, and pardon the length of this. From your own, Antoinette.