February _ _, 1864. —I did not write yesterday, nor for three days before that and now I cannot quite remember the date. We have had a delightful visit, or rather two delightful visits, first at. Goodwood and then at Woodstock; just the two pleasantest places that you could imagine. I am sure no girl ever had two sweeter aunts than Aunt Sue and Aunt Nannie; both are charming, each in a different way.
Eliza Lane was at Goodwood with us and, when we went home with her, I was so glad to see dear little Sallie, who is so anxious to be “a grown-up young lady” too.
Aunt Nannie has a beautiful bride staying with her, Mrs. Dr. Goldthwaite, from Mobile, as well as I can remember. She told us of her wedding, which took place some ten days ago. Dr. Goldthwaite had thirty-six hours leave of absence, so there was need for haste. There is a dearth of young men, when you get away from a military post and she had twenty young ladies for attendants. The groom, the minister and the bride’s father were the only men present. They left immediately after the ceremony for Tallahassee, where Dr. Goldthwaite thought he was stationed but, much to his disappointment, his regiment had moved on, so he left his wife with Aunt Nannie. Everybody is just as kind as possible and tries to make things cheerful for her and she is as pretty and sweet as can be.
But I am not telling you of the exciting day we missed. On our way home, opposite the Berryhill Place, to be exact, we saw a number of soldiers, preparing to camp. We could see that it was a battery of artillery but that was all, we could not even go slowly by the camp, for Father and Mother are very strict in their ideas and, while some girls do not mind stopping to talk with any stranger who wears the gray, we have been told not to do it. So we went on, wondering as we went, who they could be?
As we drove in at home, we met uncle Randal with one wagon and little Randal with another, we thought nothing of this, but no sooner had we entered the house than Mother and Mattie began to tell us all we had missed. This same battery of artillery had dined at Pine Hill that day.
Mother was enthusiastic in her praises of Colonel Capers and his command and Father was so taken with them that he had sent the wagons we met to take them some supper. Well, we can’t have everything. When uncle Randal came home he brought just the nicest note of thanks you ever read to Father, for his kindness to him and his men.
