June 5.
Always the same hopeless state; extreme weakness, and no life left but in the look, which beams with love. We are all here, more silent than shadows, starting at the slightest sound. I did not know that I loved so strongly this mother worthy of my René. Yesterday evening, seeing me leaning over her bed, she made a supreme effort to say to me: “You will comfort him!” O my God, my God! can it be that mourning is about to darken our youth, and that this first year of
marriage should contain so great a sorrow?
June 7.
Nothing but a breath, … yet I hope still. Something tells me that she must live.
June 9.
Yes, dearest, she will live; let us thank God. A reaction has taken place; it is now a resurrection. How happy I am! You would scarcely recognize René, so greatly is he altered; but he smiles now, recovering with our beloved sufferer. Your letter of yesterday brought balm to my heart; and an hour afterwards the good doctor assured us that all danger was over, though the recovery will be very gradual. And so this beautiful and glorious Feast of Pentecost finds us all radiant. My mother has insisted on sending us to the services, but the others could not refuse to let me remain. “Grandmother and Aunt Georgina are Ruth and Noemi,” observed Arthur. My mother heard him, and sighed at the thought of her dear ones dead; and now having cheered, comforted, and attended to her, I see that she has sunk into a quiet sleep, and so begin to write to you. My darling Kate, a Te Deum!
They are returned. I went to the door with my finger on my lips, and now I am alone again.… No, René is by me, light as a sylph, and together we watch the blessed slumber which will not be the last. Kate, I am going to pray with my brother, who invites me to do so, and at the same time sends his love to you.
June 11.
What a new and delightful aspect everything has regained! We are now longing to accomplish our vow. Why are you not here, my sweet