Yours affectionately,

    V.R.

In March they began once more to see their friends.  “Seeing those I have not yet seen,” she writes, “is like meeting them after years—­so changed is our world.”

    PEMBROKE LODGE, March 15, 1876

The dear old beech-tree in the wood blown down, and with it countless recollections of happy hours under its shade with merry boys climbing it above our heads, and little Agatha playing at our feet, and her elder sisters chatting with us and looking for nests and flowers.  All, all gone.  The bitter gales of sorrow have blown down our fair hopes and turned our joys to sorrow.  Poor old beech-tree!  Like us, it had lost its fair boughs; like it, we shall soon lay down our stripped and shattered stems.

    PEMBROKE LODGE, April 25, 1876

    The loveliness of early spring—­its nameless, countless tints, its
    music and its flowers, never went deeper into my soul—­but oh! the
    happy springtide of life, where is that?

    Lady Russell to Lady Charlotte Portal

    PEMBROKE LODGE, January 27, 1877

Do not grieve too much over all our trials, dear Lotty.  We have not long to bear them now, and all will be made clear by and by.  All the sorrows of all the world will be seen in their true light, and tears will be wiped from all eyes for ever.  I often think, though I try to drive away the thought, how unspeakably soothing and happy it would have been to look back upon blows as must fall to the lot of all who live long, instead of to a life of many strange and unexpected and terrible shocks of many kinds.  But oftener, far oftener, I feel the brightness and blessedness of my lot; so bright and so blessed in many wonderful ways; and never, never at any moment would I have exchanged it for another.  Dearest Lotty, your loving letter has brought all this upon you, and it shall go with all its selfishness to Laverstoke, and not into the fire, where I am inclined to put it....  God bless you, dear Lotty.

    Your loving sister,

    F.R.

    Lady Russell to Lady Charlotte Portal

    PEMBROKE LODGE, January 4, 1878

I am reading the third volume of Prince Albert, and love and admire him more and more—­but am very angry with the book as regards John:  the unfairness from omission of all particulars which he alone could have given with regard to his resignation on Roebuck’s motion, and his non-resignation after Vienna, is something I cannot forgive.

Early in this year, 1878, Lady Russell writes of a dinner-party at Lord Selborne’s: