nk it absurd. But I MUST say what I feel and
think in some way--it is such a relief!

But the effort is getting to be greater than the relief.

Half the time now I am awfully lazy, and lie down ever so much.

John says I musn't lose my strength, and has me take cod liver oil and
lots of tonics and things, to say nothing of ale and wine and rare meat.

Dear John! He loves me very dearly, and hates to have me sick. I tried
to have a real earnest reasonable talk with him the other day, and tell
him how I wish he would let me go and make a visit to Cousin Henry and
Julia.

But he said I wasn't able to go, nor able to stand it after I got there;
and I did not make out a very good case for myself, for I was crying
before I had finished.

It is getting to be a great effort for me to think straight. Just this
nervous weakness I suppose.

And dear John gathered me up in his arms, and just carried me upstairs
and laid me on the bed, and sat by me and read to me till it tired my
head.

He said I was his darling and his comfort and all he had, and that I
must take care of myself for his sake, and keep well.

He says no one but myself can help me out of it, that I must use my will
and self-control and not let any silly fancies run away with me.

There's one comfort, the baby is well and happy, and does not have to
occupy this nursery with the horrid wall-paper.

If we had not used it, that blessed child would have! What a fortunate
escape! Why, I wouldn't have a child of mine, an impressionable little
thing, live in such a room for worlds.

I never thought of it before, but it is lucky that John kept me here
after all, I can stand it so much easier than a baby, you see.

Of course I never mention it to them any more--I am too wise,--but I
keep watch of it all the same.

There are things in that paper that nobody knows but me, or ever will.

Behind that outside pattern the dim shapes get clearer every day.

It is always the same shape, only very numerous.

And it is like a woman stooping down and creeping about behind that
pattern. I don't like it a bit. I wonder--I begin to think--I wish John
would take me away from here!

It is so hard to talk with John about my case, because he is so wise,
and because he loves me so.

But I tried it last night.

It was moonlight. The moon shines in all around just as the sun does.

I hate to see it sometimes, it creeps so slowly, and always comes in by
one window or anoth