_Dearest Love_,
Thy sister Mary, after I left thee, told me that it was her opinion
that we should not be married for a week longer. I had hoped, as thou
knowest, for an earlier day; but I cannot help feeling that Mary is on
the safe and reasonable side. Shouldst thou feel that this
postponement is advisable, thou wilt find me patient beyond what thou
thinkest me capable of. I will even be happy, if thou wilt only keep
thy mind and heart in peace.
Belovedest, didst thou sleep well, last night? My pillow was haunted
with ghastly dreams, the details whereof have flitted away like
vapors, but a strong impression remains about thy being magnetised.
God save me from any more such! I awoke in an absolute quake. Dearest,
I cannot oppose thy submitting to so much of this influence as will
relieve thy headache; but, as thou lovest me, do not suffer thyself to
be put to sleep. My feeling on this point is so strong, that it
would be wronging us both to conceal it from thee.
My ownest, if it will at all reconcile thee to the ceremony, I will go
to Concord, tomorrow or next day, and see about our affairs there. I
would even go there and live alone, if thou didst bid me though I
shall be much happier in lingering here, and visiting thy couch every
evening, and hearing thee say that thou art better than the night
before.
What a sweet morning is this; it makes me feel bright and hopeful,
after the troubles of the night.