hand; and still I long for you. I proposed to your father that I
should go with him; we would immediately have our banns published and
be married, and both come here. An apartment for married people is
empty in this house, and here you could have had sensible physicians
and every mortal help. It seemed to him too unbecoming. To you, too?
It seems to me still the most sensible thing of all, if you are only
strong enough for the trip. If the Landtag should continue longer than
to the 6th of June--which I still hope it will not--let us look at the
plan more carefully. * * *

Your faithful B.


Schönhausen, Friday, May 28, '47.

_My Poor Sick Kitten_,-- * * * In regard to your illness, your father's
letter has calmed my anxiety somewhat as to the danger, but yours was
so gloomy and depressed that it affected me decidedly. My dear heart,
such sadness as finds expression there is almost more than submission
to God's will: the latter cannot, in my opinion, be the cause of your
giving up the hope, I might say the wish, that you may be better,
physically, and experience God's blessing here on earth as long as may
be in accordance with His dispensation. You do not really mean it,
either--do you, now?--when, in a fit of melancholy, you say that
nothing whatever interests you genuinely, and you neither grieve nor
rejoice. That smacks of Byron, rather than of Christianity. You have
been sick so often in your life, and have recovered--have experienced
glad and sad hours afterwards; and the old God still lives who helped
you then. Your letter stirred in me more actively than ever the
longing to be at your side, to fondle you and talk with you. * * *