Of course, it would
make all the difference in the world to me to be where I could have you
to advise me about the baby, and I'd go to-morrow if it only wasn't so
far. Mrs. Midden has told me of a boarding-house in the country not more
than twenty miles from here where Oliver could come down every evening,
and we may decide to go there for a month or two. I can't help feeling
very anxious, especially as Mrs. Scott's little boy--he is just the age
of baby--was taken ill the other night, and they thought he would die
before they could get a doctor.

This letter is full of my worries, but in spite of them I am the
happiest woman that ever lived. Oliver is the best thing to me you can
imagine, and the baby is so fascinating that I enjoy every minute I am
with her. It is the greatest fun to watch her in her bath. I know you
would simply go into raptures over her--and she is so bright that she
already understands every word that I say. She grows more like Oliver
all the time, and the other day while I was watching her playing with
her rubber doll, she looked so beautiful that it almost frightened me.

I am so glad dear father is well, and what you wrote me about John
Henry's admiration for Susan interested me so much that I sat straight
down and wrote to him. Why do you think that it is only friendship and
that he isn't in love with her? If he really thinks her the "finest girl
in the world," I should imagine he was beginning to be pretty serious. I
am delighted to hear that he is going to take her to the festival. Tell
Susan from me that I shall never be satisfied until she is as happy as I
am. Mr. Treadwell was right, I believe, not to let her go to college,
though of course I want dear Susan to have whatever she sets her heart
on. But, when all is said, you were wise in teaching me that nothing
matters to a woman except love. More and more I am learning that if we
only love unselfishly enough, everything else will work out for good to
us. My little worries can't keep me from being so blissfully happy that
I want to sing all the time. Work is a joy to me because I feel that I
am doing it for Oliver and the baby. And with two such treasures to live
for I should be the most ungrateful creature alive if I ever complained.

Your ever loving daughter,
VIRGINIA.

* * * * *

MATOACA CITY, July 1, 1886.
DEAREST MOTHER:

We are leaving suddenly for the country, and I'll send our