Page:Confessions of a wife (IA confessionsofwif00adamiala).pdf/133
like the angel Joy, strong and beautiful. It is as I said those first few weeks beside the autumn sea: Eden waits in every weather. Oh, I love him! I love him so that it is as if I could perish of loving and not know that I had been slain.
December the twenty-fourth.
We are all so happy to-night that it seems a kind of theft from joy to take the time to say so. The angel of life is bearing us along on quiet wings. Father is quite well, better than usual, and Dana has done some brilliant thing at court which pleases the governor. The ground is to be broken to-morrow for our new house; it is to stand just behind Ararat, in the garden, near the wall and the electric light. Dana is very merry and kind; no one can be so kind as Dana. For me, I am better, and I am happy, too. The doctor (old Dr. Curtis) has quite talked me out of the blues I was in awhile ago. And to-morrow—I thought I had pages to say about tomorrow; but my pen is deaf and dumb. I find I cannot speak, even to my own heart—only to his. I will leave a note upon his pillow; I hope he will like it. At first it was a joy to write then because it was clearly such a joy to him to read them. My brain seemed to be stimulated, as well as my heart, by happiness; thought it-