arming and
very lovable. I can see it in her picture, too, which I thank you for
sending. Of course, without it I should have been cruelly anxious to
see what she was like. She is very pretty--very. I am obliged to
confess that. I think I shall come to love her for her own sake, and
not only for yours. If only she will love me! You love me more than I
deserve or merit, so don't say too much about me or she will be sure to
be disappointed.

If I must be a mother-in-law (horrid name), I want to be a nice one and
be loved. I shall do my best. Only it is the giving you up. O Rob,
darling! What shall I do without you--without my blessed son? Breakfast
alone, luncheon alone, dinner alone, everything alone! Ah, I can't bear
the thought of it! No! No! I don't mean that! But of course I can't and
won't live with you--it's very kind and like you, dear, to say I must,
but I don't believe in that. You'll see enough of me, I'm sure, as it
is. And I shall have my memories. Baby and boy, you are mine alone. I
didn't have to share you then; and I won't have to share the memories
now, and no one can take them away from me. And what if you make me a
grandmother? It isn't at all sure. Everybody doesn't have babies now,
like they used to. Still, if you do! Well, I shall probably adore it.
But then I must settle down, wear caps, and perhaps revive a widow's
veil. I certainly shall have to be more dignified and not go
gallivanting about everywhere, and control some of my enthusiasms, or I
shall be a ridiculous old creature. You see, I have always kept your
age. Now I must take one awful flying leap to my own; and then go along
with myself properly. I shall have to become much more regular about
church and know all the saints' days. A good thing that will be for me,
too, I'm sure--What do you think? They've just knocked on the door and
told me it is dinner time. I've been three hours over this disgraceful
letter. I knew I'd been dreaming[1] a good deal between sentences; but
I didn't know it was so bad as all that. Well, I'm going down to tell
the others my _good_ news (you understand that _good_, don't you?), and
we'll drink to the health and happiness of you both in some crimson
Chianti. And they shall all see how happy I am over your happiness. For
I am. And you will see it, too, when I come back; which will be as soon
as I can.

[1] The words "and crying" are well scratched over, so he
couldn't possibly read them.

Good by