"'My Darling Margaret: During your visits to the country your letters cheer me as I fondly dwell upon the sweet suggestive thought that you are ever thinking of me, as I am thinking of you, every waking and dreaming moment. I fade away into dreamland, hand in hand with you, and joyously together like innocent children we walk across the broad meadows and through the woods to some hidden bower by the brook; there as I look up into your eyes, the pebbly streamlet flashing a glint of wayward sunshine, the wooing songbirds and the reposeful harmonies of Nature soothe me like your tender glances when they fall upon me alone. Aye, quite alone I would have them fall, to produce that magic sensation of a dream's delight. Then when I awake in the morning and realize that you are far, far away, and read your latest letter again with pangs of the bitterest remorse, I dwell only upon those passages which hint of other joys quite apart from your interest in me. My desolation is that of a storm-tossed soul, seized by every breath of fear and tortured by every agony known to the forsaken. Have you no pity for me, Margaret? Drive no more shafts of anguish through my bruised and shattered heart, but gently administer in words of endearment the potency of your enthralling glances.
"'Forlorn, my love, no comfort near,
Far, far from thee, I wander here;
Far, far from thee, the fate severe,
At which I most repine, love."O, wert thou, love, but near me;
But near, near, near me;
How kindly thou wouldst cheer me,
And mingle sighs with mine, love!"Around me scowls a wintry sky,
That blasts each bud of hope and joy,
And shelter, shade nor home have I,
Save in those arms of thine, love.'"
"Oh, my! How gushy!" exclaimed Gabrielle, as she laughed, and looked at Jim to see if he were enjoying it as thoroughly.
"Yes, but how jolly it is to read," said Hygeia. "Listen to this:
"'There comes a faint ray of sunshine and hope when I read just a word of your possible home-coming in a fortnight. Would that I might keep that single thought in mind to illumine the dreary prospect! There are times when it blazes brightly, and with the tripping footsteps of joy I think of you as here at my side. How sweet the fancy—
"'We'll gently walk, and sweetly talk,
Till the silent moon shine clearly;
I'll grasp thy waist, and, fondly prest,
Swear how I love thee dearly;
Not vernal showers to budding flow'rs,
Not autumn to the farmer,
So dear can be as thou to me,
My fair, my lovely charmer!'"
"My, but wouldn't it be fine to have such letters to treasure!" laughed Gabrielle, teasingly. "Jim, don't you think it splendid?"
But Jim looked glum and tried to dodge under the quilts.
"'It is not every night I can dream, believe me, darling,'" continued Hygeia, her face in smiles, for she felt that her audience was now in sympathy with the reading. "'Many and many a night I pace the floor of my dark room or idly sit by the window gazing out at the flickering stars and the pale moon until they fade away in the dawn, and then I rush out into the turmoil of the unheeding, jostling world, with nothing to live for but your return. On those nights one soft word from your fair lips would summon me to peaceful dreams. Alas! to realize that you are far, far from me, and the agony of the thought that you may never return seizes and holds me fast. Then it is—
"'O, thou pale orb, that silent shines,
While care-untroubled mortals sleep!
Thou seest a wretch who inly pines,
And wanders here to wail and weep!
With woe I nightly vigils keep,
Beneath thy wan, unwarming beam,
And mourn in lamentation deep
How life and love are all a dream."'Encircled in her clasping arms,
How have the raptured moments flown!
How have I wished for fortune's charms,
For her dear sake and hers alone!
And must I think it!—is she gone,
My secret heart's exulting boast?
And does she heedless hear my groan?
And is she ever, ever lost?"'Oh! can she bear so base a heart,
So lost to honor, lost to truth,
As from the fondest lover part,
The plighted husband of her youth!'"
"Jim, why didn't you learn how to write letters, so that you could send some to me like that? Don't you think it lovely? Please don't stop. Pardon my interruptions," said Gabrielle.
"Never mind the interruptions. Let us get all the fun out of it we can," replied Hygeia, who continued to read with frequent interruptions from Gabrielle, but none whatever from Jim—the livelier the comments and laughter, the greater he was inclined to silence and disappearance beneath the covers.