d Bertha! Madge the
more, because she is so full of whims and oddities. To-night she came
into my room, and brought this little book for me to write a journal of
all that befell me while I was gone, making me promise to write often
in it. Not that she ever wished to see it again. Heaven forbid that she
should ever be so cruelly punished as to be made to read anybody's
journal!--least of all such a stupid one as mine must be, shut up with
Cousin Eleanor!--but she thought that I could never draw the book from
the case (she had chosen one that fitted very tightly, and would give
me much trouble for that very reason) without thinking of her;--and to
be thought of often by her friends she confesses she is weak enough to
wish.--Dear Madge, I could not forget her, if I would. The book just
fits in a little japanned box that belonged to my grandmother, in which
she used to keep rouge and pearl-powder. I will keep it in that, and
remember my promise to Madge.

"_February_ 21.--The journey is over, and I am at Cousin Eleanor's. How
the evils that we dread shrink into nothing when we fairly meet them!
Cousin Eleanor received me kindly, and looked neither so grave nor so
cold as my memory, assisted by my imagination, had pictured her; and
Ashcroft is a pretty place, even in midwinter. I am never tired of
sitting at the library-window, and looking at the bare branches of the
black ash-trees, as they spread out their network against the winter
sky. I have a little desk near the bay-window, where I have my drawing
and writing materials, and where I pretend to write and draw, while
Eleanor occupies a larger one at the opposite window. Eleanor is a
woman of business,--keeps all her accounts, looks after her farm and
servants, and manages all her own affairs, and, though a strict and
exacting mistress, is neither harsh nor unkind;--she evidently intends
to perform all her own duties punctually and faithfully, and expects
others to do the same. I often look at her with wonder, her nature is
so different from mine,--never impulsive, always cool and steady,--full
of ceaseless activity, yet never hurried, and seemingly never
perplexed. I sometimes think she sees the whole of her life mapped out
before her, and takes up every event in order. With the exception of
the servants, we are the only occupants of the house, Eleanor does not
seek nor desire the society of her neighbors; and so while she works I
dream, read, or answer Madge or Bertha's