Mr. Robert isn't well enough to be about yet, but he sits up for a
while every day, and is getting on--the doctor says--nicely. They both
talk about you often; and Mr. Ercildoune, I can see, thinks everything
of you for that good, kind deed of yours, when you and Mr. Robert were
on the transport together. Dear Jim, he don't know you as well as I do,
or he'd know that you couldn't help doing such things,--not if you
tried.
I hope you'll like the box that comes with this. Mr. Robert had it
packed for you in his own room, to see that everything went in that
you'd like. Of course, as he's been a soldier himself, he knows better
what they want than anybody else can.
Dear Jim, do take care of yourself; don't go and get wounded; and don't
get sick; and, whatever you do, don't let the rebels take you prisoner,
unless you want to drive me frantic. I think about you pretty much all
the time, and pray for you, as well as I know how, every night when I go
to bed, and am always
Your own loving
Sallie.
* * * * *
"Wow!" said Jim, as he read, "she's in a good berth there." So she
was,--and so she stayed. Frankie got quite well once more, and Sallie
began to think of going, but Mr. Ercildoune evidently clung to her and
to the sunshine which the bright little fellow cast through the house.
Sallie was quite right in her supposition.
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