itself at present; it would be a sin to interfere with its progress.
I think, too, that if he can possibly finish it, he will be able to
go away with a greater content upon him, with the satisfaction that
only achievement brings. It is, in fact, very long since he last
completed anything.

And then I shall take him away, I, in his full content, to the
sunshine, to the land of dreams.

There are still some things I can hardly realise.

Good-bye, dearest.
EMILIA.




LETTER XXXIV.


GRAYSMILL, March 20th.

My beloved Constance, I am glad your letter of this morning has made
me a little unhappy; I have been a selfish brute, thinking of none
but myself, and him. I little thought, whilst I lay basking in the
sun, that you stood there shrouded in densest fog. I wish I had
written every day, you poor sweet!

But now I have evolved a plan, and Gabriel thinks with me that it is
a good one. You will find me rather prosaic, yet indeed, sweetheart,