g over them with Paigie and Marye in
murmurous and intimate rapture. They lead me about to shops and in
busy thoroughfares; and I see and understand, and I hear my own
voice as at an infinite distance, and I am happy in the same
indefinite way. But, try as I may, I cannot fix my thoughts on
what I am about, on the pretty garments piled around me, on the
necessary arrangements to be made, on the future--our future! I
cannot even think clearly about that. All that my mind seems able
to contain is my love for you, the knowledge that you are coming,
that I am to see you, touch you.

"I try to realise that I am to be your wife; the heavenly reality
seems vaguely impossible. Yet every moment I am schooling myself
to the belief, telling myself that it is to be, repeating the
divine words again and again. And all I am capable of
understanding is that I love you, and that the world stands still,
waiting for you as I wait; and that without you nothing is real,
and I move in a world of phantoms.

"I have been to the mirror to look at myself. To be certain, I
also asked Celia. She says that you will not be disappointed.

"She sat here searching the morning paper for news of her husband's
regiment, but found none. What women endure for men no man that
ever lives can understand.

"She is perfectly cheerful about it all. And, oh, such a rebel!
She read aloud to me with amused malice the order from the War
Department which does away with regimental bands and substitutes a
brigade band.

"I sca'cely blame them,' she observed; 'I'd be ve'y glad myse'f to
hear less of Yankee Doodle and the Star-spangled Banner. When they
let President Davis alone, and when Curt comes home, I've got some
ve'y pretty songs fo' him to learn to appreciate.'

"She's down stairs now, seated at the piano, singing very softly to
herself some gaily impudent rebel song or other. I know it's a
rebel song by the way she sings it.

"And, as I sit here, alone, thinking of how I love you--far away I
hear the 'old line's bugle'--the quaint, quick rhythm of the fifes
and drums; and it stirs depths in me where my very soul lies
listening--and the tears spring to my eyes. And I try to
understand why every separate silver star in the flag is mine to
hold, mine to rescue and replace, mine to adore. And I try to
understand why all of it is part of the adoration of you, and of
God who gave you to me--Philip--Philip--my lover, my country, my
God--worsh