An extract or two from a letter written to Sarah by Angelina and Theodore early in the autumn of 1838 will show the tender relations existing between these three, and which continued undisturbed by all the changes and trials of succeeding years.

In September, Sarah went to Philadelphia to attend the Annual Anti-Slavery Convention.  Angelina writes to her a few days after her departure:—­

“We have just come up from our evening meal, my beloved sister, and are sitting in our little study for a while before taking our moonlight ramble on the river bank.  After thou left us, I cleared up the dishes, and then swept the house; got down to the kitchen just in time for dinner, which, though eaten alone, was, I must confess, very much relished, for exercise gives a good appetite, thou knowest.  I then set my beans to boil whilst I dusted, and was upstairs waiting, ready dressed, for the sound of the ‘Echo’s’ piston.  Soon I heard it, and blew my whistle, which was not responded to, and I began to fear my Theodore was not on board.  But I blew again, and the glad response came merrily over the water, and I thought I saw him.  In a little while he came, and gave me all your parting messages.  On Second Day the weather was almost cold, and we were glad to take a run at noon up the Palisades and sun ourselves on the rock at the first opening.  Returning, we gathered some field beans, and some apples for stewing, as our fruit was nearly out.  In the evening it was so cool that we thought a fire would be more comfortable, so we sat in the kitchen, paring apples, shelling beans, and talking over the Bible argument;[8] and, as we had a fire, I thought we had better stew the apples at once.  This was done to save time the next day, but I burnt them sadly.  However, thou knowest they were just as nice to our Theodore, who never complains of anything.  Third Day evening we took a walk up the Palisades.  The moon shone most beautifully, throwing her mantle of light all abroad over the blue arch of heaven, the gently flowing river, and the woods and vales around us.  I could not help thinking, if earth was so lovely and bright, what must be the glories of that upper Temple which needeth not the light of the sun or of the moon.  O sister, shall we ever wash our robes so white in the blood of the Lamb as to be clean enough to enter that pure and holy Temple of the Most High?  We returned to our dear little home, and went to bed by the lamp of heaven; for we needed no other, so brightly did she shine through our windows.  We remembered thee, dear sister, in our little seasons of prayer at the opening and closing of each day.  We pray the Lord to bring thee back to us in the fulness of the blessing of the Gospel of peace, and to make our house a home to thy weary, tossed, afflicted spirit.  We feel it a great blessing to have thee under our roof.  Thy room looks very desolate; for, though the sun shines brightly in it, I find, after all, thou art the light of it.”