My sweet Cat,

I fear I am quite despondent without Jon; I am uncertain I would call it illness, but in my heart it is a perfect emptiness, a certain queer calm that comes to nausea.  I must manage the household entire, now, which has left me quite exhausted and with little time for correspondence.  My apologies, sister, if you have found me less than dutiful!  Sweetrobin is doing quite well, at least, the poor dear.  It was quite a shock to lose his father at such an age, of course, and you know how delicate he can be emotionally.

So far as I am concerned, this matter on the continent is something for the continent to deal with.  What should we care about Belgium?  I daresay I enjoy a good waffle as much as the next woman, but I don’t see any reason to ship off our lads.  Your lad, at least — thank the Lord mine’s far too young.  How is young Robert taking all this uneasiness?

If my presence is desired at Tully House, I shall make my way down.  Perhaps on a day Father is indisposed, if at all possible — do let me know when would be most convenient for us all.  You and your children (and Ned) are of course welcome here at the Eyrie at any time; this big house feels so terribly empty these days.

Yours,
L.

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