Just as I had finished writing to you, my dear papa, about tea on Wednesday; as my thoughts were especially occupied with you; as I was saying, “Oh, surely if this good papa is able to come back and see us, he will do so”; as all this is happening, I receive a letter from the voisin, which announces that all of you will arrive on Saturday the 26th, that the date is set, that you will come in time for dinner, and will not return home until Monday the 28th after dinner; that in the meantime, you love me as always and will write to me. It would be extremely difficult to convey how much pleasure the voisin‘s letter gave me, if you did not already know how attached I am to you. To see you, to see you in my house, my dear papa, is one of the greatest pleasures I have ever enjoyed or that I could imagine; my soul, made to love true and strong, so that it may know all the reward of your reciprocal love, has become so accustomed to seeing you often, that it misses you dreadfully, looks for you, calls you … Wednesdays and Saturdays, especially, do drag so slowly! Now, at least, hope will sustain me; Saturday, I shall say: one more Wednesday, Wednesday, I shall say: that good papa is coming Saturday; and that Saturday I shall say, I am happy. As I wait, I will think every day that the day which has just passed brings me closer to the day when we will see each other again, and every day I will love you, as long as I live, and I will believe that sometimes you say, “In Madame Brillon I have found one more friend.” I have the honor to be, my dear papa, your very humble and very obedient servant