I thought I had forgotten them until lately.

But I remember them very often now.

I think of Pinewood a great deal, and I love you dearly; and yet somehow I do not feel as if I cared to go back there to live.

Isn't that strange?
Give my love to Grandpa, and tell him I am neither engaged to a foreign minister, nor a New York merchant, nor a Southern planter--nor to any body else.

But he must keep up heart, for there's plenty of time yet.
Good-by, dear Aunty.