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the last of that month - So there is no hope of a "long visit" after that—   Oh! Phebe how can I tell thee - how I long to come - thee says "do come" - Oh! does thee think I would. Wait for those urging words - if I could. There is a voice in my heart pleads louder- -than even thy loving words-- it speaks every hour in the day - it entreats from out the [[strikethrough]] se [[/strikethrough]] sweet eyed - of those little pictured faces in my room - and every curly-headed, bright-eyed child child in the street awakens it - it will not be quieted in the sad twilight - and the stillness of the night - 

Thy letter brought a bitter pang dear - when it expressed the possibility that the little ones would seem less fond - after this long separation-. I knew it in the bottom of my heart - yet - could not bear that any one else should speak it - yet I must learn to look the bitter fact steadfastly in the face - perhaps dear little Lala will not even know me- Bless the dear children - well! if they are mine no more - they are 


God's the same - and he will keep them - with a love more tender than mine was - If I think of them any more I shall talk to you of nothing else tonight.

Last week I was quite surprised by a - visit from Hannah Smith. She has never been to my room before-  I found her the same old Hannah - just as warm-hearted - just as busy - her life one whirll of excitement - and next summer - she will be sick again- but she says it is her nature- and she can not help it - and I believe it is - and we might as well let her kill herself in her own way - it is no use to attempt to stay such a torrent as that - since she went to Germantown in the fall - She has got up there - a woman's employment society - a soup-house - for the poor - and holds two meetings a week - in different parts of the town among the lower classes. I am going out there next Saturday night to spend Sunday.