_Salem_, July 7th, 1848
Ownest, when thy letters come, I always feel as if I could not have
done without them a moment longer. Thou must have received one from me
since the date of thine, but I hope it will not weary thee to receive
this brief scribblement. If my hand would only answer to my heart,
what letters I should write thee! It is wonderful--the growth of our
love! Six years ago, it seemed infinite; yet what was the love of that
epoch to the present! Thou badest me burn two pages of thy last
letter; but I cannot do it, and will not; for never was a wife's deep,
warm, chaste love so well expressed, and it is as holy to me as the
Bible. Oh, I cannot begin to tell how I love thee.
Dearest, I should not forgive myself if I were to deprive the children
of the country. Thou must keep them there as long as thou canst. When
thou hast paid thy visit to Sarah Clark, I must come and see thee in
Boston, and if possible (and if I shall be welcome) will spend a
Sunday there with thee.
There is no news. Miss Derby has finished her picture, and it is now
being publicly exhibited. I have not yet seen it, but mean to go.
Mr. Pike is going to dine with me to-day, on green peas.
Oh, for one kiss!