Tuesday, June 23d.
This has been a very warm day, and I have not been out of the house, though I wished much to see Caroline Leighton. She is quite comfortable again, and sits in her chair two or three hours at a time.
Last night after we retired to our room, I told Frank I wanted to ask his advice upon a very important subject. So we sat down in the bright moonlight, while I told him about Emily. He said not a word, but heard me with interest. I fancy he controlled his feelings, as he frightened me so much the other night. "Now you see, Frank," I said, "you did Emily injustice. She has acknowledged she did wrong; and she intends to confess it to Mr. Benson."
"Ahem!" was all the reply.
"What can I do?" No answer.
"After all," said he, starting up to walk across the room, "it is quite a triumph for Emily to confess her error to him. She has her full share of the Lenox pride; and we all have enough of it. It must have cost her a great struggle. But that doesn't help the poor fellow. I should wish no farther acquaintance with a lady who had treated me so rudely."
Frank seemed to be soliloquizing, and I interrupted him by asking again, "My dear husband, what shall I do?"
"I can tell you, my love, what I shall do, very quickly," he replied, coming and taking my hand, while he kissed me repeatedly. "I shall love you with all my heart for calling me by so dear a name." I had never before addressed him as my "husband."
I felt very courageous in the moonlight, and said, "Why, Frank, I understood you to say nearly a year ago, that you had lost your heart. Have you found it again?"