th the tides, _there_, I bless and
love you with the voice that makes no sound.

Other human creatures (how often I do think it to myself!) have their
good things scattered over their lives, sown here and sown there, down
the slopes, and by the waysides. But with me ... I have mine all
poured down on one spot in the midst of the sands!--if you knew what I
feel at moments, and at half-hours, when I give myself up to the
feeling freely and take no thought of red eyes. A woman once was
killed with gifts, crushed with the weight of golden bracelets thrown
at her: and, knowing myself, I have wondered more than a little, how
it was that I could _bear_ this strange and unused gladness, without
sinking as the emotion rose. Only I was incredulous at first, and the
day broke slowly ... and the gifts fell like the rain ... softly; and
God gives strength, by His providence, for sustaining blessings as
well as stripes. Dearest--

For the rest I understand you perfectly--perfectly. It was simply to
your _thoughts_, that I replied ... and that you need not say to
yourself any more, as you did once to me when you brought me flowers,
that you wished they were diamonds. It was simply to prevent the
accident of such a _thought_, that I spoke out mine. You would not
wish accidentally that you had a double-barrelled gun to give me, or a
cardinal's hat, or a snuff box, and I meant to say that you _might as
well_--as diamonds and satin sofas a la Chorley. Thoughts are
something, and _your_ thoughts are something more. To be sure they
are!

You are better you say, which makes me happy of course. And you will
not make the 'better' worse again by doing wrong things--_that_ is my
petition. It was the excess of goodness to write those two letters for
me in one day, and I thank you, thank you. Beloved, when you write,
_let_ it be, if you choose, ever so few lines. Do not suffer me (for
my own sake) to tire you, because two lines or three bring _you_ to me
... remember ... just as a longer letter would.

But where, pray, did I say, and when, that 'everything would end
well?' Was _that_ in the dream, when we two met on the stairs? I did
not really say so I think. And 'well' is how you understand it. If you
jump out of the window you succeed in getting to the ground, somehow,
dead or alive ... but whether _that_ means 'ending well,' depends on
your way of considering matters. I am seriously of opinion
nevertheless, that if 'the arm,' you talk of,