A few mornings after my return I requested Ann to build a fire in my room, while I gave Pauline her morning bath; when she brought up a great quantity of brush which would light quickly. The sight of this reminded me of the children, Anna and Willie. I am ashamed to say, that with so many other subjects to occupy my thoughts my _protegés_ had passed entirely out of my mind. I inquired concerning them of mother, and learned that they had made great advances in Phebe's good graces, by having completely filled the wood shed with the brush, which Cæsar had chopped early in the season, and had left in the orchard to dry. They had come regularly day after day, had taken their dinner at the house, and returned at night carrying a basket of food, or some useful article to their mother. Frank and I are more delighted than we can express with the change in Emily. To be sure, she never has such high spirits as formerly; but she is cheerful and affectionate to mother and all of us. When I recall to mind the sad forebodings, I had while in B----, thinking my happiness had gone forever, and then realize what a united, happy family we are, my heart is ready to burst with gratitude. Our "Home is the resort Of love, of joy, of peace and plenty, where, Supporting and supported, polished friends And dear relations mingle into bliss." _Saturday, October 31st._ Now that Frank knows my whole heart, I hope he will cease from self-accusation for what passed at B----. I was sitting at my desk writing when he came in. I looked up with a smile; but he only made a faint attempt to return it. I instantly shut my desk, and went unbidden to sit upon his knee. He put his arm about me, but did not speak. To divert his thoughts, I asked him about his patients. "Cora, my dear wife," said he interrupting me, "I would give all I possess," ('including _me_,' I whispered,) "if you could open your heart to me as you do to your mother in that journal." "Why, Frank, I will tell you all you would like to know. I can't think of anything I wish to conceal from you." "Isn't there," he asked in an agitated voice, and hiding his face behind me, "Isn't there, away down at the bottom of your heart a feeling, which if brought out to the light, would read, 'I think I have been cruelly insulted by my husband, and I can never love and respect him as I once did?'" "Frank," I exclaimed, starting to my feet, "let me feel your pulse. I will order draughts for your feet. You surely have had a return of your giddiness, or you would not insult your wife by such suspicions. When you are sufficiently recovered to bear it, you shall take the said journal of which you are so jealous, and retiring to the privacy of the library, you shall then and there learn all that your wife thinks of you."