Eliza Howland to her husband, Colonel Joseph Howland.
Floating Hospital, White House,
Sunday, June.
We are having a delightful quiet Sunday–such a contrast to the last few days. A hundred and fifty men, to be sure, came down last night, but unless we have two or three hundred we think nothing of it nowadays. We are going for a walk, and Dr. Jenkins of the Commission is to have service for us under the trees. We have almost lost sight of Sunday lately in the press of work.
There are large bunches of laurel and magnolia in our parlor-cabin and dining room, and the air is full of their fragrance.
Miss Dix spent last night with us, but is off now.