March 7.
The last words I wrote the other night were, “I wonder how he will look, what he will say.” His face was a study, pleasure and surprise the dominant emotions. He said only three words as he clasped my hand in his. “Welcome home, Louise.” Louise! How he drew out the syllables. I never before realized that my name was musical. I asked him how all the family were and he said well and happy. Then he said Mrs. Forsythe was there and he wanted us to meet. She is lovely, and as they came up to me she was looking at him so fondly and proudly, I could see the devotion in her eyes. I couldn’t help feeling a sharp twinge of my conscience as I stood chatting to her, but I should not, for my intentions are the best, and if she knew all the circumstances she would commend me, I know.