Like her brother she had that keenness of retort often at once brilliant and yet full of kindly consolation. A young friend came to her one day overwhelmed by the many troubles and sorrows of her lot and in a mood which found life altogether too hard to be borne. Miss Whittier with many a word of sympathy for her griefs said to her at last: “But what would thee have? Thee would not be an oyster, would thee?” And before the eyes of her listener there rose in consolation that antithesis of pain, a radiant vision of the joy of life. * * * * * A letter from Miss Whittier gives glimpses of the home life and proves her loyalty to home and friends. She writes: “I was away more than four weeks. It is now nearly four since I came back. No, Mary, Greenleaf has not been out in his old coat and hat hunting asters and gentians. I wish he could. He has been home a few days. He seemed to have had a pleasant tour all about; but for more than a fortnight he has been quite sick, has had a visit from the doctor every day He seems _somewhat_ better now, but has hardly _faith_ enough himself. He says the war is waiting while he is ill. “I have missed thee, Mary, sadly; but I know how delightful it must be in Rehoboth home, so I am patient. Greenleaf has not wanted to see anyone; but I am sure he would be rejoiced to see thee. “My little journey was _very_ pleasant, in Lynn among dear old friends and Aunt Phoebe so glad to have me--and then in Reading, of course, nothing could be better. I think the Reading sunshine and moonlight more wonderful than anything I had known before. I do not feel _quite_ as much stronger as I did when I first came home, but am sure it did me good. I was only one day with dear Hattie Sewall at Melrose.... M---- dear, if I don’t go so much among the glorious woods, I know how beautiful these warm, bright days must be to you, gypsying as you are. I did not go to the Fair, but ’twas all very nice and Lucy Larcom sent me a great bunch of fringed gentians the _day after_. How do you all feel about the war? For my part, I will keep faith in Frémont! What does it all mean--the murmurs against Frémont?... “Only think! Theodore Winthrop’s brother has sent me a photograph of Major Winthrop, a very pure young spiritual face it is--just such a one as I seemed to see in the moonlight on the banks of the Potomac--for thee knows he said, ‘It is full moon always at Camp Camison.’ I will enclose a notice of thy friend F----’s regiment. I think poor A---- must miss thee. I have seen her once. I love A----, the little I know of her--she is so calm and good....