you may imagine me the very shadow of my husband.
And now, dear sister, I must leave this house or the retreating army will make me a prisoner in it by filling up the road I am directed to take.
When I shall again write to you, or where I shall be tomorrow, I cannot tell.
Disaffection stalks around us.
It is done... the precious portrait placed in the hands of the gentlemen for safe keeping.
It is one of my sources of happiness never to desire a knowledge of other people's business.