There has been great bitterness--great bitterness, which is natural; and some recoil against myself, more, perhaps, than is quite rational.

Now I am much better, calm, and not despondingly calm (as, off and on, I have been), able to read and talk, and keep from vexing my poor husband, who has been a good deal tried in all these things.
Through these three months you and what you told me touched me with a thought of comfort--came the nearest to me of all.

May God bless you and return it to you a hundredfold, dear dear friend! I believe _hope_ had died in me long ago of reconciliation in this world.

Strange, that what I called 'unkindness' for so many years, in departing should have left to me such a sudden desolation! And yet, it is not strange, perhaps.
No, I cannot write any more.

You will understand....
We shall be in Paris next summer.