My dear Calvin,

I am glad to hear from your letter to-day, that you are feeling so well, I have only time to write a few lines, but I must write and let you know that the first I knew of your difficulties came from yourself. What Tom knew he kept to himself and tho' Hilda was told by you before you left for Washington that you had been asked to resign, they never told me. So when your letter telling of "the nest of traitors" and that Thomson Findlay &c. were against you, I was thunderstruck, and when you sent the Resolution coming from a meeting of the congregation, it gave me a terrible shock. I can only judge by what you have said yourself. Perhaps you can reconcile to yourself the statements in that Resolution, but to me there is no getting over it. Judging from your condition at Christmas and knowing that such a condition is followed by prostration, I got Tom to go up the first time over Sunday to see how you were, he reported you about the same and "alright." But when after his return you telephoned at half-past five in the morning, showing you were not able to rest and saying you were very tired, we posted Tom off at once to persuade you to go for a rest to Algonquin Park for I was much alarmed, for the reason that I knew it would be such a terrible trial to you, if you lost your church and I am sure you are as well as you are now, just because you got off as soon as you did. I am expecting a lady to stay over-night on Wednesday of next week, so do not come that day. There was nothing in my letter to warrant your saying I was worrying, I am rather tired of having that said to me. I simply gave you my opinion and advice, based on your own statement of affairs, but I am very sorry you should cherish any ill feeling towards your brother, when he has done nothing to deserve it. He is the last one to tell me anything to worry me. He told me, every one he had spoken to was most sympathetic, and you had a great many friends, were much liked wherever you went. Then on top of this you tell me of a "den of thieves" and send me this fearful Resolution. You know we always thought you and Ruby were too good for the people of this world. You saw virtue in them, that none of us ever saw and I think it is still so. Well, I cannot write more.

Your loving mother

M.B. McQuesten

[P.S.] I will not show Tom your letter, I would not like him to know your feeling.