home ere she had been in London a week. This surprised me exceedingly,
knowing how passionate fond she had ever been of the playhouse and
diversions of any kind, and remembering how eager she was to go to town
with her husband; and I perceived there was more significance in the
present distaste for diversion than she would have known. And I observed
further (when the joy of return and ordering her household subsided)
that she herself had changed in these past three weeks, more than was to
be expected in so short a time. For, though she seemed to love her
husband more than ever she had loved him as her lover, and could not be
happy two minutes out of his company, 'twas not that glad, joyous love
of the earlier days, but a yearning, clinging passion, that made me sad
to see, for I could not look upon the strained, anxious tenderness in
her young face without bethinking me of my poor sister, as she knelt
praying by her babe's cot for God to spare its frail life.

Yet her husband never looked more hearty and strong, and every look and
word of his bespoke increasing love. The change in her was not
unperceived by him, and often he would look down into her wistful,
craving eyes as if he would ask of her, "What is it, love? tell me all."
And she, as understanding this appeal, would answer nothing, but only
shake her head, still gazing into his kind eyes as if she would have him
believe she had nought to tell.

These things made me very thoughtful and urgent to find some
satisfactory explanation. To be sure, thinks I, marriage is but the
beginning of a woman's real life, and so one may not reasonably expect
her to be what she was as a thoughtless child. And 'tis no less natural
that a young wife should love to be alone with her husband, rather than
in the midst of people who must distract his thoughts from her; as also
it is right and proper she should wish to be in her own home, directing
her domestic affairs and tending to her husband--showing him withal she
is a good and thoughtful housewife. But why these pensive tristful
looks, now she hath her heart's desire? Then, finding I must seek some
better explanation of her case, I bethought me she must have had a very
hard, difficult task in London to conceal from one, who was now a part
of herself, her knowledge of so many things it was unbefitting she
should reveal. At the playhouse she must feign astonishment at all she
saw, as having never visited one before, and keep consta