Wednesday, 17th—­While I was writing the above all the Brooklyn Prentisses went to bed, and we New York Prentisses went to the Sunday-school rooms next door to a church-gathering.  There are three rooms that can be thrown together, and they were bright and fragrant with flowers, most of which the young men sent me afterwards, exquisite things.  I had a precious talk with Dr. Abbot, one of whose feet, to say the least, is already on the topmost round.  I only wish he was a woman.  The church was open, and we all went in and listened to some fine music.  Coming out I said to a gentleman who approached me, “How is little baby?” “Which little baby?” “Why, the youngest.”  “Oh, we haven’t any baby.”  And lo!  I had mistaken my man!  Imagine how he felt and how I felt!  We got home at eleven P.M., and so ended my day of rest.  I have 540 things to say, but there is so much going on that I shall defraud you of them—­aren’t you glad?  Have you read the “Gates Ajar”?  I have, with real pain.  I do not think you will be so shocked at it as I am, but hope you don’t like it.  It is full of talent, but has next to no Christ in it, and my heaven is full of Him.  I have finished Faber.  How queer he is with his 3’s and 5’s and 6’s and 7’s!  I feel all done up into little sums in addition, and that’s about all I know of myself—­he’s bewildered me so.  There are fine things in it, and I took the liberty of making a wee cross against some of them, which you can rub out.  Miss L. sent me another of his books, which I am reading now—­“All for Jesus.”

To Mrs. Henry B. Smith, New York, March 22, 1869

We were gladdened early this morning by the arrival of your letter, and the good news it contained.  I had a dreadful fright on the day you reached Southampton.  Mr. Moore sent up a cable dispatch announcing the fact, and as it came directed to both of us, and I supposed it to be from you, I thought some terrible thing had happened.  I paraded down to M. with your letter, and she, at the same time, paraded up here with the one to her and the rest.  So we got all the news there was, and longed for more.  I hope the worst is now over.  I have just got home from a visit of four days and nights to Miss Lyman.  I enjoyed it exceedingly, and wish I could tell you all about it, but can’t in a letter.  She has turns of looking absolutely aged, and seems a good deal of the time in a perfect worry, I don’t know what about.  Otherwise she is better than last summer.  I never saw her when at work before, and perhaps she always appears so.  We had two or three good rousing laughs, however, and that did us both good.  I did not know she was so fond of flowers; she buys them and keeps loads of them about her parlors, library, and bedroom.  What a world it is there!  I only wish she was happier in her work, but perhaps if we could get behind the scenes, we should find all human workers have their sorrows and misgivings and faintings.  According to her I had an “inquiry meeting” once or twice; believe it if you can and dare.  It was certainly very pleasant to get into such an intelligent Christian atmosphere, and on the whole I’ve got rather converted to Vassar.