Letter from Mrs. Martin CF 102
To his daughter Pauline
My dear Pauline,
22 may 1873.
Today is the beautiful day of the Ascension, I take this opportunity to write to you; it will be the last time before you go out, since Mlle. Pauline will take you on the 3st of May. We have only eight days left to pass without seeing each other; Marie talks about it constantly, but she's ready to cry when she thinks of you leaving. However, you will have to resign yourself to it, the pleasure cannot last forever.
Your holidays are coming quite well; there are big celebrations being prepared in Alençon at the moment, on the occasion of an Exhibition. They will begin on the day of Pentecost, the day after your arrival. There will be fireworks, balloons, the torchlight procession every evening for eight days, and a thousand other things that I don't have time to write to you. You will never have seen anything like it in Alencon. For me, all this does not amuse me, but for you it will not be the same.
Marie was at eight o'clock mass this morning. She was a little tired when she came home. I just put her to bed. Now he is no longer prevented from eating, however, one must not go too fast yet. She stays up most of the day.
We are very happy with your arrival; we make little Céline do whatever we want when we say to her: "If you do that, Pauline will come." »
We will go from Monday in a week, by car, to see little Thérèse; she is very strong now. I saw her last Thursday, her nurse brought her, but she doesn't want to stay with us and squeals when she no longer sees her nurse. So Louise was forced to take her to the market, where the “little Rose” was selling her butter, there was no longer any way to stand it.
As soon as she saw her nurse, she looked at her laughing, then said no more; she stayed like that, selling butter with all the good women, until noon! As for me, I cannot wear it for long without being very tired; she weighs fourteen pounds. She will be very nice and even very pretty later.
Your father leaves Tuesday on a pilgrimage to Chartres; he won't be back until Wednesday night.
Farewell, my dear Pauline, I embrace you with all my heart.
