Last Evening William brought me yours of the 19th. Instant and we were happy to be informed that you and the Children were well. Saturday afternoon, Sunday and yesterday, your Father has endured a great deal of pain, he seems easier this Morning, the effect I suppose of the Opium he took last night. Betsy and myself pay all the attention to him in our power, but I am afraid he feels, that it falls far short of what he experiences from you. You ask my advice about weaning Sally; I mentioned the circumstance to your father, he thinks it would be improper ’till she has teeth, but at the same time I am certain he wishes much for you. These Things I leave to your own good sense to determine; I own the decision is difficult, between the duty you owe your father, and the feelings you must have on account of your child, but where I cannot advise I certainly shall not command.

I am afraid it will be impossible for me to make you a visit ’till I have settled my Brother’s Bread business, and when that will be, it is difficult now to say; besides I think it would be improper to leave your father in his present situation and the family, to the sole care of a child of eleven years old. Your female servants are not be be depended on, and you know what Bob is—a disagreeable circumstance has happened since you left home, which evinces that some of them are not trust worthy, who the culprit is I can’t find out, and perhaps never may, but I have my suspicions.

I do not know when I may have an opportunity of sending you this, but I have it ready for the first that presents. With Love to Mr. F. and the Children I remain Your affectionate Husband