misjudge
me because I don't talk. I can assure you, I am very much disturbed;"
and I _was_ vexed.

"Perhaps, then"--said FRED--"you'll take a little walk towards the
Steyne; and recover yourself? I've some letters to write, my love:
and--'twill do you good--I'll join you."

"Certainly"--said I--"of course; if you wish it," and then I wondered
why he _should_ wish to get rid of me. It never happened before.
Yes--and the thought came again _very forcibly_ upon me--it's plain the
honeymoon's nearly out; and then I left the room; and as I left it,
didn't I _nearly_ bang the door?

"Why should he wish to get rid of me?" I seemed quite bewildered with
this question. Everything seemed to ask it. He could have written his
letters without my leaving the house. However, I felt glad that I
contained myself; and especially glad that I didn't bang the door.

Well, I ran and put on my bonnet; and then just peeping in at the door
to FRED, said, "I'm going;" and in another minute was taking my way
towards the Steyne. It was such a beautiful day; the sky so light; and
the air so fresh and sweet, that--yes, in a little minute, my bit of
temper had all passed away--and I did well scold myself that, for a
moment, I had entertained it. I walked down upon the beach. Scarcely a
soul was there: and I fell into a sort of dreamy meditation--thinking
about _that_ morning-gown and _those_ slippers. "I'll get 'em for FRED,
that I will;" I resolved within myself. "Roses _shall_ grow at the
fireside; and repose _shall_ be in his arm-chair. _That_ I'm
determined:" and as I resolved this with myself, everything about me
seemed to grow brighter and more beautiful. And then I wished that we
were well at home, and the slippers had, for once and all, been tried
and fitted. The gulls flying about reminded me of Rajah: and I _did_
wonder at myself that I could think of his loss--that would have nigh
killed me at one time--so calmly. But then, as Mamma said, and as I've
since discovered,--it's wonderful what other trifles marriage makes one
forget.

There was nobody upon the beach: so I sat down, and began a
day-dreaming. How happy we should be at home, and how softly and sweetly
all things would go with us! And still, as the waves ran and burst in
foam upon the beach, I thought of the slippers.

I hardly knew how long I'd been there, when a little gypsey girl stood
at my side, offering a nosegay. I looked and--yes, it was one of the
gypsies, at whos