CHAPTER XXIII.
My sleep that night was fitful and troubled, and I arose the next morning with a sense of oppression quite unusual with me. Hitherto, when I had retired at night a pessimist, the morning sun invariably brought with it relief, which I believe it is its pleasant mission to do, and I awoke an optimist. But as I dressed on this particular day, I felt uneasy, and anxious without any apparent cause, I told myself.
What had happened to justify this state of mind, I asked? Certainly my wedded life had never looked so promising as it did now. I had won my husband's love, most surely. Could a caprice or two on my part extinguish the flame which I had fanned so long and so diligently? Pshaw! The idea was ridiculous. I was out of sorts. I would not give way to my gloomy thoughts. I would exercise my will, and be happy in spite of myself.
