- thing, animated by but one thought, common to us all,
common, as your dear mother has said, to this whole sheaf of hearts, quivering with pain, lives for the honor so unjustly wrested from us.
And remember that if I at times have moments of personal weakness, under the repeated shocks of this trying hour, I have also a talisman, to reanimate me, to give me strength, the thought of you, of my children—in a word, my duty.
The lines in which you speak to me of the dear children give me great pleasure; they permit me to see the children in my thoughts.
Embrace the darlings tenderly for me.
So, my dear and good Lucie, courage always. Hold your head proudly high until the day comes when, side by side, we can forget this horrible drama.
Let us hope for all our sakes that that hour may be at hand.
I embrace you as I love you.
Your devoted
Alfred.
Kisses to all.
26 January, 1896.
You ask me, my dear and good Lucie, to write you long letters. What can I tell you that you do not feel in your own heart better than I could tell it? My heart is always with you; it is torn when it feels you suffer pangs so unmerited, and can do nothing to help you, except to suffer equally itself. My spirit night and day is with you; it would sustain and animate
