altar she served was veiled from every eye save that of God.
Her becalmed days in the years immediately following found their best understanding and comfort in her brother's home across the lawn. To her Sister Sue she writes at this time:
I rise because the sun shines and sleep has done with me. I brush my hair and dress and wonder what I am and who made me so,—and then I help wash the breakfast cups, and—anon wash them again, and then 'tis afternoon and ladies call,—and evening and some members of another line come in to spend the hours, and then the day is done. And prithee what is life? The supper of the heart is when the guest is gone!
Another scrap at the same date runs:
The definition of beauty is that definition is none; of heaven easier, since heaven and He are One.
Again:
Susan—We both are women and there is a Will of God.
Could the dying confide Death, there would be no dead.
Wedlock is shyer than death.
Thank you for tenderness.
And during her first ecstasy of renunciation:
Title divine is mine
The Wife without
The Sign.
Acute degree
Conferred on me—
Empress of Calvary.
Royal, all but the
Crown—
Betrothed, without the Swoon
God gives us Women
When two hold
Garnet to garnet,
Gold to gold—
Born—Bridalled—
