I like Miss Frances very much, only she is such a raging housekeeper, and keeps me all the while on the alert.  I don’t believe in these raging housekeepers, who act as if they wanted to make the bed before you are up, and eat breakfast before it is ready.  I don’t like to get up in the morning anyway, and I don’t like to hurry, and I am always behind, and keeping somebody waiting, and that disturbs the people here very much.  Miss Frances seems really cross sometimes, and even Guy looks sober and disturbed when he has waited for me half an hour.  I guess I must try and do better, for both Guy and Miss Frances are as good as they can be, but then I am not one bit like them, and have never been accustomed to anything like order and regularity.  At home things came round any time, and I came with them, and that suited me better than this being married, a great deal, only now I have a kind of settled feeling, and am Mrs. Guy Thornton, and Guy is good-looking, and highly esteemed, and very learned, and I can see that the young ladies in the neighborhood envy me for being his wife.  I wonder who is that Julia Hamilton Miss Frances talks about so much, and why Guy did not marry her instead of me.  She, too, is very learned and gets up in the morning and flies round and reads scientific articles in the Westminster Review.  I asked Guy once why he did not marry her instead of a little goose like me, and he said he liked the little goose the best, and then kissed me, and crumpled my white dress all up.  Poor Guy!  I wish I did love him as well as he does me, but it’s not in me to love any man!

DECEMBER 20, 18—.

A horrible thing has happened, and I have married a poor man after all!  Guy signed for somebody and had to pay, and Elmwood must be sold, and we are to move into a stuffy little house without Zillah, and with only one girl.  It is too dreadful to think about, and I was sick for a week after Guy told me of it.  I might as well have married Tom, only I like Guy the best.  He looks so sorry and sad that I sometimes forget myself to pity him.  I am going home to mother for a long, long time—­all winter, maybe—­and I shall enjoy it so much.  Guy says I have ten thousand dollars of my own, and the interest on that will buy my dresses, I guess, and get something for Miss Frances, too.  She is a noble woman, and tries to bear up so brave.  She says they will keep the furniture of my blue room for me, if I want it; and I do, and I mean to have Guy send it to Indianapolis, if he will.  Oh, mother, I am so glad I am coming back, and I almost wish—­no, I don’t, either.  I like Guy, only I don’t like being married!

CHAPTER IV

AUTHOR’S STORY