Of course we were both thinking hard of all that had happened to
me since we parted, on the morning after my wedding, two years
before, and we were so overcome with the joy of meeting, that if
it had not been for the baby's white sunbonnet, I do not know
what kind of a scene we might have made. That saved the
situation, and after a few days of rest and necessary shopping,
we started for our old home in Nantucket. Such a welcome as the
baby and I had from my mother and father and all old friends!
But I saw sadness in their faces, and I heard it in their voices,
for no one thought I could possibly live. I felt, however, sure
it was not too late. I knew the East wind's tonic would not fail
me, its own child.
Stories of our experiences and misfortunes were eagerly listened
to, by the family, and betwixt sighs and laughter they declared
they were going to fill some boxes which should contain
everything necessary for comfort in those distant places. So one
room in our old house was set apart for this; great boxes were
brought, and day by day various articles, useful, ornamental, and
comfortable, and precious heirlooms of silver and glass, were
packed away in them. It was the year of 1876, the year of the
great Centennial, at Philadelphia. Everybody went, but it had no
attractions for me.
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