"Very respectfully,
"R. A. FIELDS."
She crumpled the sheet, and threw it from her; and if ever earnest, heartspoken prayer availed, her sobbing cry to the God of travelers insured his safety.
CHAPTER XXXVIII.
One day there came a letter postmarked from an inland town where Beulah had no correspondent. The direction, however, was instantly recognized, and she broke the seal hurriedly.
"What has become of you, Beulah? and what can have become of my two letters which were never answered? Concluding you never received them, I hazard a third attempt to reach you through the medium of letters. You will readily perceive that we have removed to a distant section of the State. Ernest was called to take charge of this parish, and we are delightfully located here, within a few minutes' walk of the church. Beulah, the storm which darkened over me, in the first year of my marriage, has swept by, and it is all sunshine, glorious sunshine, with me. You know my home was very unhappy for a time. My husband's family caused misunderstandings between us, influenced him against me, and made me very, very wretched. I could not tolerate Lucy's presence with any degree of patience, yet she would remain in our house. How it would have ended only Heaven knows, had not my husband been suddenly taken very ill.
"It was on Sabbath morning. He was displeased with me because of some of my disputes with his sister, and scarcely spoke to me before he went into the pulpit. Lucy and I sat together in the rector's pew, hating each other cordially; and when Ernest began the morning service I noticed he looked pale and weary. Before it was concluded he sank back exhausted, and was borne into the vestry room, covered with blood. He had a severe hemorrhage from the throat, his physician said, but Ernest thinks it was from his lungs. I was sure he would die; and oh, Beulah, what agony I endured, as I sat beside him and watched his ghastly face! But his illness was 'the blessing in disguise'; he forgot all our disgraceful bickerings, and was never satisfied unless I was with him. Lucy grumbled, and sneered, and looked sour; but I had my husband's heart again, and determined to keep it. As soon as he was strong enough I told him how wretched I had been and how sincerely I desired to make him happy, if Lucy would only not interfere. He saw that our domestic peace was dependent upon the change, and from that hour his sister ceased meddling with my affairs. What he said to her I never knew; but soon after his recovery she returned to her parents, and I was left in peace.
"I began in sober earnest to be all my husband wished me; read the books he liked (though it was a terrible bore at first); read to him; took part in all the societies connected with his church, and, in short, became quite a demure pastor's wife. Occasionally my old fondness for fun would break out, to the horror of some of his antediluvian flock; but Ernest was very good, and bore patiently with me, and now I am as prim and precise as any old maid of sixty. At home I do as I like; that is, when Ernest likes it too. I sing, and play, and romp with the dogs and kittens; but the moment the door bell rings, lo! a demure matron receives her guests! Ernest's health is quite restored, and I am as happy as the day is long. You should see me working in my garden, and sometimes churning before breakfast, to give Ernest a fresh glass of buttermilk. I would not change places with an empress, I am so happy. My husband loves me better than everything else beside, and what more could I desire?
"Do come and see me; we would be so delighted to have you spend some time in our home. I am such a genuine rustic you would scarcely recognize me. Just fancy me with an apron on, my sleeves rolled up, churning as fast as the dasher can fly and singing at the top of my voice. Mother was perfectly shocked, when she first came to live with me, and vowed I should not make a 'drudge' of myself. Drudge, indeed! because I chose to do something with my own hands for my husband! I told her I would 'drudge,' as she called it, just as long as Ernest loved such things as I could prepare for him myself; and I read her those famous remarks of Lady Mary Montagu, in which all domestic pursuits, even cooking, are dignified as a labor of love; whereupon Ernest gave me a kiss, and mother declined any further argumentation on the subject.
"How some of my fashionable city friends would elevate their fastidious noses at seeing me, with my check aprons, picking strawberries or arranging curds for tea! Come and see me; do, Beulah; I am the very happiest woman extant; that is, I would be, if I could only know something of Uncle Guy. It is almost five years since he left home, and for a long, long time we have heard nothing from him. This is the only sorrow I have. Sometimes I fear he must have died in some distant land, yet will not believe it. I want to see him very much; my heart aches when I think about him. Dear Uncle Guy! next to my husband, I believe I love him best. Can't you tell me something of him? or do you know as little as his relatives? Ernest says he will walk into our house some day without any intimation of his coming. Oh, I hope so! I endeavor to believe so! Do write to me. I often think of you, in your loneliness, and wish you were as happy as your friend,