I was too full of happiness at the idea of being allowed to correspond
at once with my darling, and hear from her own dear self after the weary
months that had passed since our separation. Why, I would be able to
tell her all my plans and hopes and fears, conscious that her sympathy
would never fail to congratulate me in success; condole with me, cheer
me, encourage me, in failure!
And then, her letters! What a feast they would be, coming like grateful
dew on the thirsty soil of my heart--sunshine succeeding to the April
shower of disappointment that lay on my memory. Her letters! They
would be so many little Mins, visiting me to soothe my exile, and
bringing me, face to face and soul to soul, in the spirit, with their
loving autotype at home!