“But, Mark, dear,� said Alice, as she arose and lighted a lamp, “can you not see that, to me, it is truth? I really see and hear them, and if it were not for these hideous ones—�
“They are all hideous—the whole doctrine is hideous, my dear, and only such as an unbalanced mind can conceive of,� he said hastily. “For my sake,—for God’s sake,—try and use some reason and judgment in the matter! You used to feel different from this—you, the little fearless woman of five years ago. I was so proud of you for your bravery, as became a soldier’s wife. You were all right until that man came here—until that serpent came into our Eden. Now you are frightened, and faint at your own shadow. But forgive me, dear, I didn’t come home to scold you. I am sure it is because you are not well and your nerves are to blame for it all. Queer things, these nerves, to play us such pranks. You are better, are you not?�
Alice turned her face, still pale and wan, toward him, and said in a voice yet unsteady: “We will not talk of it any more. It is too dreadful.�
“No, we will choose pleasanter themes. I have some news for you. I have received a letter from my sister Elinor, and she thinks of coming to make us a visit. She will have a fine rest here after her round of society life.�
“But I thought she was in California.�
“So she is, but will stop and visit us on the way East. I know it will do you good to have her here. She is always bright and happy.�
Alice’s lip quivered at the implied reproach, though Mark had no intention of meaning it as such.
“But will she be happy here? I am afraid our rude little cabin will scarcely make her comfortable.�
“Don’t worry about that, child. Nellie is a good-hearted little woman, in spite of her wealth and love of society, and she will enjoy the change, I assure you.�
“I feel—afraid to see her,� said Alice, the tears quivering in her lashes.