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  My dearest Friend

Your letter came to me just when I most needed the comfort of it—when I was watching and tending my dear Mother as she gently, slowly, with but little suffering, sank to rest. There was no sick bed to sit by.—We got her up and out into the air and sunshine for an hour or two even the day before she died—No   disease, only the stomach could not do its work any longer & for the last three weeks she lived wholly on stimulants, suffering somewhat from sickness. She drew her last breath very gently, before daybreak on the 15th inst.​ , in her 90th year, which she had entered in Jan​ . She looked very beautiful in death, notwithstanding her great age—as well she might—tranquil sunset that it was of a beautiful day—a fulfilled life—joy & delight of her father in youth (who used to call her the apple of his eye) good wife, devoted, self-wise sacrificing, mother—patient, courageous sufferer through thirty years of chronic rheumatism (which however neutralized & ceased its pains the last few years) unsurpassed & indeed I think unsurpassable, in conscientiousness—in the strong sense of duty & perfect obedience to that highest sense—she is one of those who amply justify your large faith in women.

I do not need to tell you anything my dearest friend—you know all—I feel your strong comforting hand—I press it very close.

I had all my children with me at the funeral— O the comfort your dear letter was & is to me. Thinking over & over the few words you say of yourself—& what is said in the paper (so eagerly read—every word so welcome) I cannot help fancying that the return of the distressing sensations in the head must be caused by your having worked at the book—the "Two Rivulets" (I dearly love the title & the idea of bringing the Poems & Prose together so)—that you must be more patient with yourself and submit still to perfect rest—& that perhaps in regard to the stomach—you have not enough adapted your diet to the privation of exercise—that you must be more indulgent to the stomach too in the sense of giving it only the very easiest & simplest work to do.

Your own loving Annie.

My children join their love with mine.