ning a song in my heart; to-day I
shall see him!

I set off immediately after early dinner, and walked across the
Common to the Thatched Cottage. I cannot tell you what it was to me
to catch sight of the chimney and the purling smoke again; I had to
stand still and wait a while, my heart thumped so. (A fool, eh?) I
crept noiselessly into the house, and through the hall, then
stealthily opened the study door. There he sat on the ground by the
fire, with his back to me, reading, of course.

"What a careless person!" said I, softly; "he'll blind himself one
of these days."

Up he jumped.

"Emilia!" he cried, "dear Emilia!" and, catching me by both wrists,
swung my arms up and down and to and fro.

"You faithless thing," said he, "you false friend, I hate you!"

Here Richard Norton ran in from the kitchen, with the teapot in his
hand, followed by Jane; they both covered me with welcomes and
reproaches. I was very happy, I assure you. We went into the kitchen
and had early tea, talking all the while and all together. Gabriel
was in one of his impish moods, and made me laugh till I cried. The
first thing I thought, when I had time to think, was that I had been
a fool to keep away so long and allow myself to grow sentimental;
that it was altogether much more healthful for me to be in his dear
company.

I came home in a much better frame of mind, although Gabriel
insisted on walking nearly as far as Graysmill with me, and said as
we parted:

"You must never again leave me for so long, Emilia; I am lost
without you, I am, indeed."

I turned from him, half wishing he had not said this, feeling a
little giddy, a little less strong; but, as I ran along, something
hit me on the shoulder. I looked behind me, and there he stood, like
an imp of mischief, pelting me with pine-cones, which it seems he
had collected in his pocket for that purpose. So I had to laugh, and
was cured again.

The year has at least begun well.

Adieu, my sweetest. Things are often not so bad as we imagine. With
this truism I take my leave of you.

Your EMILIA.

I think I forgot to send a New Year's wish to Mrs. Rayner. For you,
my love, again all the good that this world holds. May it rain upon
you in ceaseless showers!

LETTER XXIV.

GRAYSMILL, January 15th.

I have grown unutterably selfish. I only remembered this morning
that you had