POSTSCRIPT, February 23.
I open my letter to add, that I am thinking of coming to New
England with Faith,--you know Faith and I have nobody but each
other now. Indeed, I may be on my way by the time this reaches
you. It is just possible that I may not come back to the West. I
shall be for a time at your uncle Calvin’s, and then my husband’s
friends think that they must have me. I should like to see you for
a day or two, but if you do not care to see me, say so. If you let
me come because you think you must, I shall find it out from your
face in an hour. I should like to be something to you, or do
something for you; but if I cannot, I would rather not come.