6016 Jackson Park Boulevard.
Dear Dear Miss Addams,
A letter from Mrs Mead yesterday revealed to me the fact that our long silence might and did appear in another light to our friends than it did to us. Facts have come back to me slowly and even those in our consciousness can hardly be trusted yet. If there had been anything I could say which would not add to your sorrow I might have had the courage to write sooner. Whatever then is [Life?] the best in human life is typified in what you dear [page 2] friends have said and done of Gordon. It seems for the time to have less of me in it than perhaps was in your minds. These are the only reasons why we have not written. Most of the time since we left Ireland has been so full of the incidents of hurried travelling and the care of children that we have had no power to do more. We left [page 3] Mary in Ireland ↑and↓ find our minds comforted by caring for the two little girls ourselves. They are in school here, as are the older ones. This place is quiet though forlorn as far as living is concerned as you know the French living is likely to be. But the people are so cheerful and so uncommonly considerate of strangers that we could scarcely find a better place for the present. Besides it seemed impossible [page 4] to go further. The possibilities of French study are promising [producing] enough so that we hope Fred and Evelyn will save a year of work and ↑at↓ home and they like the place and are making pleasant friends. The only reparation which could be offered to them seemed to be some work accomplished.
The chasm between you and us is still too great and too awful for me [to] attempt to bridge it by words. Your affection and goodness is still our best and only [written in left margin of page 1] resource and so far as that can remain [page 5] an integral part of what our [lives] have now become we are with you and of you all the time. For all you have done and been we can only say thank you and that seems nothing -- Please believe in my unending trust in and affection for you.
Alice C. Dewey.
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