er of 1851 she remained in town with the
children. An extract from a letter to her youngest brother, dated August
1, will show how she whiled away many a weary hour:

It has been very hot this summer; our house is large and cool, and above
all, I have a nice bathing-room opening out of my chamber, with hot and
cold water and a shower-bath, which is a world of comfort. We spent part
of last week at Rockaway, L. I., visiting a friend. [1] I nearly froze
to death, but George and the children were much benefited. I have
improved fast in health since we came here. Yesterday I walked two and a
half miles with George, and a year ago at this time I could not walk a
quarter of a mile without being sick after it for some days. When I
feel miserably I just put on my bonnet and get into an omnibus and go
rattlety-bang down town; the air and the shaking and the jolting and the
sight-seeing make me feel better and so I get along. If I could safely
leave my children I should go with George. He hates to go alone and
surely I hate to be left alone; in fact instead of liking each other's
society less and less, we every day get more and more dependent on each
other, and take separation harder and harder. Our children are well.

To her husband, who had gone to visit an old friend, at Harpswell, on
the coast of Maine, she writes a few days later:

On Saturday very early Professor Smith called with the House of Seven
Gables. I read about half of it in the evening. One sees the hand of the
_artist_ as clearly in such a work as in painting, and the hand of a
skilful one, too. I have read many books with more interest, but never
one in which I was so diverted from the story to a study of the author
himself. So far there is nothing exciting in it. I don't know who
supplied the pulpit on Sunday morning. The sermon was to young men,
which was not so appropriate as it might have been, considering there
were no young men present, unless I except our Eddy and other sprigs of
humanity of his age. I suppose you will wonder what in the world I let
Eddy go for. Well, I took a fancy to let Margaret try him, as nobody
would know him in the gallery and he coaxed so prettily to go. He was
highly excited at the permission, and as I was putting on his sacque, I
directed Margaret to take it off if he fell asleep. "Ho! I shan't go to
sleep," quoth he; "Christ doesn't have rocking-chairs in His house." He
set off in high spirits, and during the long prayer I hea