burning warm and bright. They are right: _he_ doesn't care if I am
going away for ever with Alfred. His quick eulogy of him, and the lovely
warm look he poured over poor frightened me at his side, told me that
once and for all. Still, we have been so close together over his baby,
and I have grown so dependent on him for so many things, that it cuts
into me like a hot knife that he shouldn't care if he lost me--even for
a neighbour. I shouldn't mind not having _any_ husband if I could
always live close by him and Billy like this, and if I married Judge
Wade--_no, I don't like that!_ Of course, I'm going with Alfred,
now that an accident has made me announce the fact to the whole town
before he even knows it himself, but wherever I go, that light in the
room with that lonely man is going to burn in my heart. I hope it will
throw a glow over Alfred!




Leaf VII.

Heart Agonies.


I have suffered this day until I want to lay my face down against the
hem of His garment and wait in the dust for Him to pick me up. I shall
never be able to do it myself, and how He's going to do it I can't see,
but He will.

That dinner-party last night was bad enough, but to-day's been worse.
I didn't sleep until long after daylight and then Jane came in before
eight o'clock with a letter for me that looked like a state document.