Were you here, I would confide in you
fully, and have more than once, in the silence of the night, recited
to you those most strange and romantic chapters in the story of my sad
life. At one time when I thought I might die, I empowered a person,
who has given me, as far as possible to him, the aid and sympathy of
a brother, to communicate them to you, on his return to the United
States. But now I think we shall meet again, and I am sure you will
always love your daughter, and will know gladly that in all events she
has tried to aid and striven never to injure her fellows. In earlier
days, I dreamed of doing and being much, but now am content with the
Magdalen to rest my plea hereon, "_She has loved much_."
You, loved mother, keep me informed, as you have, of important facts,
_especially_ the _worst_. The thought of you, the knowledge of your
angelic nature, is always one of my greatest supports. Happy those who
have such a mother! Myriad instances of selfishness and corruption of
heart cannot destroy the confidence in human nature.
I am again in Rome, situated for the first time entirely to my mind.
I have but one room, but large; and everything about the bed so
gracefully and adroitly disposed that it makes a beautiful parlor, and
of course I pay much less.
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