Brevoort Place, Late in July.
My dear Eliza: If the regiments are all to be stationary for some time you and G. might run on for a visit. I have given up my plan of going to you for the present unless you should need me. We are now talking again of Lenox for the summer.— Abby and Jane are both wilting daily in the hot city, and I feel troubled at their being here, though we are unwilling to move off further away from you girls. We don’t know at what time the Southern army may make an attack. I have no idea that they will wait patiently till fall, though our side might, and the daily expectation of another battle keeps us here. It is intensely hot, noisy, dusty and distracting. The streets seem filled with a perfect rabble all the while. . . . Mary and the children are looking perfectly well. Baby Una grows fat and lovely by the hour—she is a splendid child. Bertha is a witch, but fascinating in her badness. Little May is very much interested in hemming a handkerchief for some poor soldier, which I basted for her, and am to send on to you when finished! She feels as if she had the whole army on her hands! in this important piece of work. . . . It is pleasant to know of your seeing so many friends. I think you are right to stay in Washington instead of Alexandria—the latter place must be intolerable,—but don’t wear yourselves out.
