The early portion of my married life was more like a dream of heaven than a reality of earth.

All, and _more_ than I had ever imagined of wedded happiness, I realized.

The intimate and constant companionship of such a being as Ernest, so intellectual, so refined, so highly gifted, so loving and impassioned, was a privilege beyond the common destiny of women.

A hundred times I said to myself in the exultant consciousness of joy,-- "How little his mother knows him! The jealousy of the lover has yielded to the perfect confidence of the husband.

Our hearts are now too closely entwined for the shadow of a cloud to pass between them.