And now what can I do? My heart almost stands still at the bare thought of it; I, who have never audibly lifted up my voice in prayer to God, save only in the presence of my little Pauline. I cannot do it; and I think my husband almost hard to ask it of me. He is always so calm and self-possessed, he little knows how my heart throbs.
Noon.
As Frank has not returned, I will add a few lines. I have taken Pauline for a walk through the garden, and made a call upon mother and sister. How we all laughed when the little thing lisped "grandmamma," in obedience to my wish. Before we came out, mother remarked that I looked quite pale. I longed to ask her advice, but conscience whispered, "you already know your duty;" and I concluded to say nothing about my trouble. "Emily," I replied, "can sympathize with me; she is looking very unwell."
As I spoke, her face and neck were covered with a burning blush. "Emily is not well," said mother gravely; "She scarcely eats at all."
"O, mother!" exclaimed Emily, "I'm well enough, only a head ache," and she went to the closet to get seed cakes for Pauline.
As I returned home through the kitchen garden, to give the child a longer walk, I heard Phebe, who stood at the back door, call to Cæsar.
"Look dere now! see de young Missus. It's enough to do your old curly pate powerful sight o' good just to see her a leading dis yer baby."
Evening.
I obtained permission from mother this morning to leave Pauline with her, while I rode with Frank. When the time arrived, Ann put on her bonnet, and then it was very easy to induce Miss to have hers put on for a walk to grandmamma's.