yron, rather than of Christianity. You have
been sick so often in your life, and have recovered--have experienced
glad and sad hours afterwards; and the old God still lives who helped
you then. Your letter stirred in me more actively than ever the
longing to be at your side, to fondle you and talk with you. * * *

I do not agree with you in your opinion about July, and I would urge
you strongly, too, on this point to side with me against your parents.
When a wife, you are as likely to be sick as when a _fiancee_--and
will be often enough, later; so why not at the beginning, likewise? I
shall be with you as often as I am free from pressing engagements, so
whether we are together here or in Reinfeld makes no difference in the
matter. We do not mean to marry for bright days only: your ill-health
seems to me an utterly frivolous impediment. The provisional situation
we are now in is the worst possible for me. I scarcely know any longer
whether I am living in Schoenhausen, in Reinfeld, in Berlin, or on the
train. If you fall sick, I shall be a sluggard in Reinfeld all the
autumn, or however long our marriage would be postponed, and cannot
even associate with you quite unconstrainedly before the ceremony.
This matter of a betrothed couple seventy miles apart is not
defensible; and, especially when I know you are ailing, I shall take
the journey to see you, of course, as often as my public and private
affairs permit. It seems to me quite necessary to have the ceremony at
the time already appointed; otherwise I should be much distressed, and
I see no reason for it. Don't sell Brunette just now; you will ride
her again soon. I must be in Berlin at noon for a consultation about
plans for tomorrow. Farewell. God strengthen you for joy and hope.

Your most faithful B.

_Tomorrow I'll send you a hat_.[15]

Berlin, Sunday, May 30, '47.

_Tres Chere Jeanneton_,--Your letter of day before yesterday, which I
have just received, has given me profound pleasure and poured into me a
refreshing and more joyous essence: your happier love of life is shared
by me immediately. I shall begin by reassuring you about your gloomy
forebodings of Thursday evening. At the very time when you were
afflicted by them I was rejoicing in the happiness I had long missed, of
living once more in a comfortable Schoenhaus bed, after I had suffered
for weeks from the furnished-apartments couch in Berlin. I slept very
soundly, although with bad dreams--night