resignedly, and even thankfully, seeing that my husband's forced
cessation from work will save him from the dreadful affliction of
loss of sight. I think I can answer for my own cheerfulness and
endurance, now that we know the worst. Can I answer for our
children also? Surely I can, when there are only two of them. It
is a sad confession to make, but now, for the first time since my
marriage, I feel thankful that we have no more.

17th.--A dread came over me last night, after I had comforted
William as well as I could about the future, and had heard him
fall off to sleep, that the doctor had not told us the worst.
Medical men do sometimes deceive their patients, from what has
always seemed to me to be misdirected kindness of heart. The mere
suspicion that I had been trifled with on the subject of my
husband's illness, caused me such uneasiness, that I made an
excuse to get out, and went in secret to the doctor. Fortunately,
I found him at home, and in three words I confessed to him the
object of my visit.

He smiled, and said I might make myself easy; he had told us the
worst.

"And that worst," I said, to make certain, "is, that for the next
six months my husband must allow his eyes to have the most
perfect repose?"

"Exactly," the doctor answered. "Mind, I don't say that he may
not dispense with his green shade, indoors, for an hour or two at
a time, as the inflammation gets subdued. But I do most
positively repeat that he must not _employ_ his eyes. He must not