_Boston_, June 2d, 1840--Before Breakfast
_My dearest_,
Thy Friday's letter came in due season to the Custom-House; but
Colonel Hall could not find time to bring it to the remote region of
the earth, where I was then an exile; so that it awaited me till the
next morning. At noon, came thy next letter, at an interval of several
hours from the receipt of the former--a space quite long enough to be
interposed between thy missives. And yesterday arrived thy letter of
the Sabbath--and all three are very precious to thy husband; and the
oftener they come the more he needs them. Now I must go down to
breakfast. Dost thou not wonder at finding me scribbling between seven
and eight o'clock in the morning? I do believe, naughtiest, that thou
hast been praying for the non-arrival of salt and coal--not
considering that, if thy petitions are heard, the poor Measurers will
not earn a sixpence.
Belovedest, I know not what counsel to give thee about calling on my
sisters; and therefore must leave the matter to thine own exquisite
sense of what is right and delicate. We will talk it over at an early
opportunity. I think I can partly understand why they appear cool
towards thee; but it is for nothing in thyself personally, nor for any
unkindness towards my Dove, whom everybody must feel to be the
loveablest being in the world. But there are some untoward
circumstances. Nevertheless, I have faith that all will be well, and
that they will receive Sophie Hawthorne and the Dove into their heart
of hearts; so let us wait patiently on Providence, as we always have,
and see what time will bring forth. And, my dearest, whenever thou
feelest disquieted about things of this sort--if ever that be the
case--do thou speak freely to thy husband; for these are matters in
which words may be of use, because they concern the relations between
ourselves and others. Now, good bye, belovedest, till night. I
perceive that the sun is shining dimly; but I fear that there is still
an east wind to keep my Dove in her dove-cote.
Towards night--Ownest wife, the day has been spent without much
pleasure or profit--a part of the time at the Custom-House, waiting
there for the chance of work,--partly at the Athenaeum, and partly
at a bookstore, looking for something suitable for our library. Among
other recent purchases, I have bought a very good edition of Milton
(his poetry) in two octavo volumes; and I saw a huge new London volume
of his prose works, but it seemed to me that there was but a small
portion of it that thou and I should ever care about reading--so I
left it on the shelf. Dearest, I have bought some lithographic prints
at auction, which I mean to send thee, that thou mayst show them to
thy husband, the next afternoon that thou permittest him to spend with
thee. Thou art not to expect anything very splendid; for I did not
enter the auction-room till a large part of the collection was sold;
so that my choice was limited. Perhaps there are one or two not
altogether unworthy to be put on the walls of our sanctuary; but this
I leave to thy finer judgment. I would thou couldst peep into my room
and see thine own pictures, from which I have removed the black veils;
and there is no telling how much brighter and cheerfuller the parlor
looks now, whenever I enter it.
Belovedest, I love thee very especially much today. But then that
naughty Sophie Hawthorne--it would be out of the question to treat her
with tenderness. Nothing shall she get from me, at my next visit,
save a kiss upon her nose; and I should not wonder it she were to
return the favor with a buffet upon my ear. Mine own Dove, how unhappy
art thou to be linked with such a mate!--to be bound up in the same
volume with her!--and me unhappy, too, to be forced to keep such a
turbulent little rebel in my inmost heart! Dost thou not think she
might be persuaded to withdraw herself, quietly, and take up her
residence somewhere else? Oh, what an idea! It makes my heart close
its valves and embrace her the more closely.
Well, dearest, it is breakfast time, and thy husband hath an appetite.
What dost thou eat for breakfast?--but I know well enough that thou
never eatest anything but bread and milk and chickens. Dost thou love
pigeons in a pie? I am fonder of Dove than anything else--it is my
heart's food and sole sustenance. God bless us.