Written from the Camp of the 182nd New York Regiment, near Washington, D.C. Opens "Dear Cousin." Notes the receipt of her letter of May 7, 1865. He had left hospital the previous day in order to rejoin his regiment "to have the pleasure of going home along with them." He notes that receiving her letters "makes my blood thrill ... I don't know how it is but I guess it is because I love ___ Yes I do love somebody but no matter who as present." He writes again that he is glad Georgia has found a substitute for Frank, and reports that his regiment is camped about a mile from Washington. The previous day he had walked into the city and to Ford's Theater, "and in the very box that our great and good President was in when assassinated by J. W. Booth the most eminent Tragedian." He writes brief of his "kind and indulgent father and a loving mother, a mother to whom I could confide all my sorrows" but that "now there is no being on Earth that I can call father or mother." He briefly mentions her upcoming studies and agrees with her gladness that Booth has been captured: "Who's talking now - I don't think tis my timid affectionate little Cousin when she says that Booth's death was far to good for him - Most undoubtedly his sin was great, aye, it was fiendish, but he suffered a death of unutterable agony and torture." He repeats that he had seen Booth "once or twice" in New York and is sorry that Grace has "no great opinion of actors" as he intends to return to the stage. In a postscript he writes "I think if I receive any more letters from you I will be madly in love with you."