Memoir of Mary L. Ware, Wife of Henry Ware, Jr.Hall, Edward B. (Edward Brooks)
Religion
Memoir of Mary L. Ware, Wife of Henry Ware, Jr.
Hall, Edward B. (Edward Brooks)
Unitarians -- United States -- Biography; Ware, Mary L. (Mary Lovell), 1798-1849
"I have written this in the intervals of attendance upon the
little boy, and, as you may perceive, at different periods, for
I seldom sit five minutes at once. It is now the 25th, and I am
happy to say he is a little better; but I scarcely dare hope,
he is of so feeble a constitution. I left him yesterday under
the influence of opium, so that I was sure he would not miss
me, to go to North Allerton, seven miles distant, to meet old
Mr. McAdam and my cousin S----, who had come from Penrith in
their carriage for me. They did not come hither, fearing that
strangers would be but intruders in such distress, but stopped
at North Allerton, and sent an express to me on Sunday night,
begging me to return with them if possible, for they had known
of all the sickness which surrounded me, and feared I should
suffer from contagion. It was most kind in them, and I should
have been most happy for the release could I have gone with an
easy conscience. But it would have been worse than inhuman to
have left this poor little sufferer, beside that much of the
business which I have undertaken is unfinished, and I should
not think I had done my duty until I had settled these orphans
permanently. But I thought I ought to go to them to explain
this, as I should have been afraid to have had them come here,
and I took a chaise and passed the day with them. My patient
did not wake up enough to know I was away, and it was quite a
refreshment to me. Am I not most fortunate to have such kind
friends in this strange land? It is a comfort to feel that I
have such a resting-place when my labors here are over, and
cheers me even in this most solitary of all the situations in
which I have ever been placed. Were it not for the good little
doctor who attends my patients, I know not what I should do. My
cousin cannot leave home for an instant, and my poor aunt is
overwhelmed with all these distressing events, added to the
continual trial which the melancholy young man is to all of us.
I get on without much fatigue, however, and have not yet been
obliged to sit up all night; and with the sleep which I get
whenever the little fellow is quiet, I do very well. He has
been very much out of his head the greater part of the time,
but very patient when he is sensible. It is now ten days since
he became ill, and you may suppose he is somewhat attached to
his cousin by this time, and I to him. O, if you could look in
upon me, what would you say!
* * * * *
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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