"What is this rest? It is the taste for a quiet life, for the
serious sweetness of the domestic hearth--the family taste--the idea
of seclusion--the recovered soul!

"Is it not so, my good angel? Then trust me. I am more than ever
full of ardor, courage, and confidence. For he loves me with all
his heart, with more levity, perhaps, than I deserve; but still--he
loves me!

"He loves me; he spoils me; he heaps presents upon me. There is no
pleasure he does not offer me, except, be it understood, the
pleasure of passing one evening at home together.

"But he loves me! That is the great point--he loves me!

"Now, dearest mother, let me whisper one final word-a word that
makes me laugh and cry at the same time. It seems to me that for
some time past I have had two hearts--a large one of my own, and--
another--smaller!

"Oh, my mother! I see you in tears. But it is a great mystery
this. It is a dream of heaven; but perhaps only a dream, which I
have not yet told even to my husband--only to my adorable mother!
Do not weep, for it is not yet quite certain.

"Your naughty
Miss MARY."