My dear Darwin

I am deeply obliged to you for so kindly writing to me upon our very sad loss.² She was a very dear and good child, and very much beloved by us.

But all this ought to do away our sorrow— I cannot say it does so. Your handwriting is so exactly as of old, that I cannot help hoping you are in tolerable health.

I have been looking over many of your old, old letters of late. They have recalled days, seldom long out of memory—

I always love to dwell upon Shrewsbury in those times. Your good Father hangs up in my little study—reminding me of his great kindnesses to me; and at the same time of ⁠⟨⁠Ca⁠⟩⁠roline who made the likeness— of Susan full of goodness &^c.³ Those were gold letter days indeed.

We have both had many happy days since—but they want the joyousness—the overflowingness of youth, and youths friendship.

Some six weeks since I attended the Funeral of my oldest Naturalist Friend Hewitson.⁴ I knew him when we were both very young, & afterwards we were intimate friends thro a very chequered life on his part. He spent much of his time, and the Income of a large fortune, upon his favorite pursuit—Lepidopte⁠⟨⁠ra.⁠⟩⁠ Having lost his wife⁵ & without family he could afford to keep Naturalists in Africa and South America—and for very many years has published a beautiful work which he drew and coloured all the plates for at a loss of 30£ per month.⁶

He has left a splendid collection to the British Museum.⁷ I shall miss him very much.

Owing to our childs long illness, we have not yet made the acquaintance of your daughter at Basset.⁸ I hope we shall now do so, and get them to pay us a visit. He kindly wrote to me lately. M^rs Fox⁹ sends her kindest regards to M^rs Darwin— Excuse this stupid ⁠⟨⁠note⁠⟩⁠

⁠⟨⁠Yours⁠⟩⁠ always | W. D. Fox