she should ever be well enough to go out again. She continues
very much in the same state--I trust not greatly worse, though
she is becoming very thin. I fear it would be only self-delusion
to fancy her better. What effect the advancing season may have on
her, I know not; perhaps the return of really warm weather may
give nature a happy stimulus. I tremble at the thought of any
change to cold wind or frost. Would that March were well over!
Her mind seems generally serene, and her sufferings hitherto are
nothing like Emily's. The thought of what may be to come grows
more familiar to my mind; but it is a sad, dreary guest."

"March 16th, 1849.

"We have found the past week a somewhat trying one; it has not
been cold, but still there have been changes of temperature whose
effect Anne has felt unfavourably. She is not, I trust, seriously
worse, but her cough is at times very hard and painful, and her
strength rather diminished than improved. I wish the month of
March was well over. You are right in conjecturing that I am
somewhat depressed; at times I certainly am. It was almost easier
to bear up when the trial was at its crisis than now. The feeling
of Emily's loss does not diminish as time wears on; it often
makes itself most acutely recognised. It brings too an
inexpressible sorrow with it; and then the future is dark. Yet I
am well aware, it will not do either to complain, or sink, and I
strive to do neither. Strength, I hope and trust, will yet be
given in proportion to the burden; but the pain of my position is
not one likely to lessen with habit. Its solitude and isolation
are oppressive circumstances, yet I do not wish for any friends
to stay with me; I could not do with any one--not even you--to