And I felt like acquiescing gratefully, happy in my restored health, in my interest in my work, and in doing and being all that it is in me to do and to be for others,--for life does look every day larger and deeper and more beautiful in its possibilities, even this one small life of mine, in this world of God’s. I think I was rather in danger of looking down on the millionaires, and pitying them for their heavier burdens of responsibility. I always feel rich when I feel well, and I was not conscious of a present want, although I knew my purse was getting light, and I was not sure whether I could afford to stay in Boston through the winter, but now I see that I can, for I shall take your advice, and keep the check. I suppose I should never have consented to have my name used, as one who needed assistance, but I have great confidence in your wisdom, and if you thought it right, I could not object. But you know that I have never suffered from want, and that I am able to work, although three-score. The only wish I have ever had in connection with money, is for the freedom it might give me to choose my work, and the place where I should live. When I can do that, I don’t know that I shall have any further desire, for myself. And if I really need that, God will give it to me. If Mr. Childs has really sent the money to _me_, I must thank him for it, and I will do so, if you will kindly send me his address. You see how ignorant I am about our good rich people, when I don’t know whether to address him as “Mr.” or “Esq.” or write with Quaker plainness! You said, “Philadelphia.” Is that enough, without street or number? I thank thee sincerely for all the kind thoughts that this matter implies on thy part. And I feel more and more assured that the silver and the gold belong to God, and that He spends it where He will. If He puts it into Mr. Childs’ hand for me, I will not refuse it--not from any good man’s hand. Only please remember that thee must not let people think I am poor, when I am not. Shall we not see thee before long? Gratefully yours, LUCY LARCOM.