I enclose the notes,– though I don't know why there should be two. — Mr. Howe said he could not send a letter of credit because people have to sign their own letters of credit; that the thing to do was to get a draught on Berlin or Dresden, then Sister Annie if she wished could buy her letter of credit there. So I came back to the house and told Father and he said it was all right; to get the draught on Dresden, which I did. There is a receipt which I am to keep, so that if the letter miscarries we can recover the money from this end. I will write to her and enclose the draught as soon as I finish this.
The passage for each of them,—full fare for a child over ten,—by the slower steamers,— about eight days,— was $80.00 before the first of Nov. and after that time $65.00, a saving of $30.00. So Father after reading her letter, decided to send the $130.00. He said he thought she wanted to stay until Nov. and that anyhow it would be foolishness to waste $30.00! The draught therefore is for $930.00— only it is in marks.
I saw Mr. Thomson about Mr. Cope and then went on to Prospect about the shades. Mrs. Patton was very kind and nice insisting upon taking me all over the house. There are fireplaces in all the bedrooms;— and there is no furnace heat at all in our room! Isn't that dreadful? The “state bed” room is a beautiful room, if anything larger than the study. A great many of the Patton things are out and they are ready to move the rest, but the other house isn't ready; the plumbers are detaining them. They hope to be out in a few days, but Mrs. Patton insists that in the meantime the workmen should begin on the rooms that are empty; so I will have them measured at once and the paper ordered.
I certainly had a busy day yesterday— was out all the morning seeing to these various things, and in the afternoon packed the children's trunks and looked after Father, for the poor dear came down with an attack. It was not a bad one however, he declined to take any paragoric, and is all right today. We are all well of course. Equally of course I am lonely, but happy to think you are actually resting at last.
How I wish I hadn't to send you these silly letters! Don't you think I might just tell people like those Geo. & Tex. stupids that you are absent,—and inaccessible? My love to all the family. Tell Agnes I will send the receipts just as soon as I can find time to copy them.
With love unspeakable, believe me, darling, always and altogether,