Then, Gabriel and I will take you
with us for walks fitting a fairy, in the woods; how you will love
them! The trees are misty already with the promise of leaves, and
all manner of sweet things are beginning to pierce the ground. How
we shall spoil you, we two!
So you are coming,--I can hardly believe it. Never say again that I
shall forget you. Let me remind you, Madam, if all else fail to
convince you, that we two are women, and that there is one tender
love, one yearning, which can only be betwixt woman and woman.
There is something infinitely pathetic in this truth; a man may be
the dearest, the nearest he can never be.
But I must bless and leave thee. I have promised to meet Gabriel at
the Post-office.
My last letter. No need to write again. Oh, Constantia, can it be
true? Yours in all truth,
EMILIA.
THE JOURNAL.
_June 3d, at evening._--I am weak, very weak. I never could carry
either joy or trouble pent up in my heart.
It has seemed sometimes of late that I must be stifled by the thing
that troubles me. Yet it is a trifling thing; nothing, I am sure,
but a foolish, wicked fear, a little disease within myself.
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