ot
bear it.

Yet it was foolish to take her with me; I might have foretold how it
would be. I saw very soon that she pined for him, perhaps as much as
I did. And I knew that he wandered to and fro at home, meeting her
thoughts with his. I brought her back as soon as I could. Gabriel
met us at the station; the engine shrieked, as I did in my heart. It
was a strange mingling of the Heaven of my life with the sordid
greyness of the world. I saw at once that there was a change; I had
parted them and taught them what each was worth to the other.

So now I know. It is well, perhaps, to have reached the end, the
limit of misery, to know that, come what may, I have suffered my
fill. And I was so happy. I cannot think to-night; I know not what
to do; I stare at my dead joy,--it is dead and cold, nothing can
wake it now. When I have stared a little longer, I must dig its
grave, bury it in the bare earth, in eternal darkness.

That is all I feel, the death of my joy; I cannot yet think of them
that killed it.

To-night in my despair I cannot tell whether I love or hate them;
love them for what they were, or hate them for what they are.

_July 2d._--The day is hot and heavy; it suits me very well.
Yesterday we were nearly all day together. I remember how it was
with me when my mother died; I had sooner bear it again than my pain
of every day. To be with them, watching the growth of their terrible
love, that is murdering me, and yet to stay on, fearing a worse
agony. Their eyes shall never meet; I shall stay and watch them, if
I die for it.

Only thirteen days more and he is mine, and I can bear him from her.
Yesterday I thought, Shall I give him to her? But I am not generous.
It may be wicked, it may be cruel, but I, too, am living. Why should
I break my heart that theirs may be whole? No; he chose me for his
wife, he will not take his word from me. I know he loves her better,
but he will forget that, I shall make him so happy, I shall spoil
him so! Oh, yes, he will forget. For a year, perhaps, he will be
unhappy; then all will be well.

It might be different if I did not know how happy I can make him.

_July 3d._--Let me write it down, all my infamy. I am possessed by a
new fear,--that Gabriel might prove honest. It is not true that
trouble chasteneth; there is no health left in me. If I clear all
the cobwebs away, I still can see the right. I can see this: that he
loves her better than me, and I remember our covena