I have not behaved according to my wont, and visited the sick even by way of a letter.  And by this time I hope you are quite well again, and do not need ghostly counsels....  I have felt very badly about Miss Lyman’s dying at Vassar, but since Mrs. S.’s visit and learning how beloved she is there, have changed my mind.  What does it matter, after all, from what point of time or space we go home; how we shall smile, after we get there, that we ever gave it one moment’s thought!  You ask what I am doing; well, I am taking a vacation and not writing anything to speak of, yet just as busy as ever; not one moment in which to dawdle, though I dare say I seem to the folks here at home to be sitting round doing nothing.  I must give you a picture of one day and you must photograph one of yours, as we have done before.  Got up at seven and went through the usual forms; had prayers and breakfast, and started off to school with M. Came home and had a nice quiet time reading, etc.; at eleven went to my meeting, which was a tearful one, as one of our members who knelt with us only a week before, was this day to be buried out of our sight.  She was at church on Sunday afternoon at four P.M., to present her baby in baptism, and at half-past two the following morning was in heaven.  We all went together to the funeral after the meeting, and gathered round the coffin with the feeling that she belonged to us.  When I got home I found a despatch from Miss W., saying they should be here right away.  I had let one of my women go out of town to a sick sister, so I must turn chamber-maid and make the bed, dust, clear out closet, cupboard, and bureau forthwith.  This done, they arrived, which took the time till half-past seven, when I excused myself and went to an evening meeting, knowing it would be devoted to special prayer for the husband and children of her who had gone.  Got home half an hour behind time and found a young man awaiting me who was converted last June, as he hopes, while reading Stepping Heavenward.  I had just got seated by him when our doctor was announced; he had lost his only grandchild and had come to talk about it.  He stayed till half-past nine, when I went back to my young friend, who stayed till half-past ten and gave a very interesting history which I have not time to put on paper.  He writes me since, however, about his Christian life that “it gets sweeter and sweeter,” and I know you will be glad for me that I have this joy.

Saturday Morning.—­I was interrupted there, had visitors, had to go to a fair, company again, so that I had not time to eat the food I needed, went to see a poor sick girl, had more visitors, and at last, at eleven P.M., scrambled into bed.  Now I am finishing this, and if nobody hinders, am going to mail it, and then go after a block of ice-cream for that sick girl (isn’t it nice, we can get it now done up in little boxes, just about as much as an invalid can eat at one time).  Then I am going to see a poor afflicted soul that can’t get any light on her sorrow.  Here comes my dear old man to read his sermon, so good-bye.