Afternoon.
I didn't quite understand, yesterday, what Frank meant about answering my questions to-day; but while I was busily writing this morning, I heard a gentle knock at the door. I sprang up and opened it for my husband.
He smiled when he saw how I was engaged, and wheeling the chair from the table to the window, sat down and took me on his knee.
"Well, Cora, how do you like your new home? Phebe has just expressed her opinion that 'you'll be wonted soon.'"
"Oh, it's beautiful!" I exclaimed, "why didn't you tell me, that I might have the pleasure of anticipating these beauties?"
"I could not be quite sure what fancies floated in your mind, and I had rather surprise than disappoint you."
"Oh, Frank, you surely know me better than that! but look there," said I, pointing to the beautiful lake before us. We looked in silence for a moment, when he laughed, and inquired if I had no questions to ask him. "I am ready," said he, "to undergo a regular catechising."
In an instant all my former fancies of my husband's poverty, and of my assisting him darted through my mind. I suppose, I looked rather sober, for he turned my face toward him with a questioning look.
"I imagined, you were poor," said I, hesitatingly.
Oh, what a merry peal of laughter rang through the room! It was a minute or more before he could recover himself, while I didn't know whether to laugh or cry. But laughing is contagious, and soon the absurdity of crying because I had the best husband in the world, and with him everything that heart could desire, caused me to join cordially with him.