nd Julia's letters were always good, sensible, and
affectionate. If our marriage, and all the sequel to it, could have been
conducted by epistles, nothing could have been more satisfactory. But I
felt a little doubtful about the termination of this Platonic
friendship, with its half-betrothal. It did not appear to me that
Olivia's image was fading in the slightest degree; no, though I knew her
to be married, though I was ignorant where she was, though there was not
the faintest hope within me that she would ever become mine.

During the quiet, solitary evenings, while Jack was away at some ball or
concert, to which I had no heart to go, my thoughts were pretty equally
divided between my lost mother and my lost Olivia--lost in such
different ways! It would have grieved Julia in her very soul if she
could have known how rarely, in comparison, I thought of her.

Yet, on the whole, there was a certain sweetness in feeling myself not
altogether cut off from womanly love and sympathy. There was a home
always open to me--a home, and a wife devotedly attached to me, whenever
I chose to claim them. That was not unpleasant as a prospect. As soon as
this low fever of the spirit was over, there was a convalescent hospital
to go to, where it might recover its original tone and vigor. At present
the fever had too firm and strong a hold for me to pronounce myself
convalescent; but if I were to believe all that sages had said, there
would come a time when I should rejoice over my own recovery.

Early in the spring I received a letter from Julia, desiring me to look
out for apartments, somewhere in my neighborhood, for herself, and
Johanna and Captain Carey. They were coming to London to spend two or
three months of the season. I had not had any task so agreeable since I
left Guernsey. Jack was hospitably anxious for them to come to our own
house, but I knew they would not listen to such a proposal. I found some
suitable rooms for them, however, in Hanover Street, where I could be
with them at any time in five minutes.

On the appointed day I met them at Waterloo Station, and installed them
in their new apartments.

It struck me that, notwithstanding the fatigue of the journey, Julia was
looking better and happier than I had seen her look for a long time. Her
black dress suited her, and gave her a style which she never had in
colors. Her complexion looked dark, but not sallow; and her brown hair
was certainly more becomingly arrange