We have been here two weeks, and I haven't felt like writing
before, since that first day.

I am sitting by the window now, up in this atrocious
nursery, and there is nothing to hinder my writing as much as I
please, save lack of strength.

John is away all day, and even some nights when his cases
are serious.

I am glad my case is not serious!

But these nervous troubles are dreadfully depressing.

John does not know how much I really suffer. He knows there
is no REASON to suffer, and that satisfies him.

Of course it is only nervousness. It does weigh on me so
not to do my duty in any way!

I meant to be such a help to John, such a real rest and
comfort, and here I am a comparative burden already!

Nobody would believe what an effort it is to do what little
I am able,--to dress and entertain, and other things.

It is fortunate Mary is so good with the baby. Such a dear
baby!

And yet I CANNOT be with him, it makes me so nervous.