You said you would weary, and I do hope in my heart you are wearying.
It will be so sweet to make it all up to you in kisses when I return.
You will take me and hear all my bits of experiences, and your heart
will beat when you find how I have longed to return to you. Darling,
dearest, loveliest, the Lord bless you! I think of you every hour,
every moment. I love you and admire you, like--like anything. Oh, if I
was there, I could put my arms so close about your neck, and hush you
into the softest sleep you have had since I went away. Good night.
Dream of me. I am ever YOUR OWN GOODY.
It seems most fitting to remember Thomas Carlyle as a man of strength,
of honor, and of intellect; and his wife as one who was sorely tried,
but who came out of her suffering into the arms of death, purified and
calm and worthy to be remembered by her husband's side.