They seem to me to be all about
such dull things--unless there is some horrible murder or cruelty or
accident--and I would rather not hear of these. I do prefer books
always--because the books last, and news is never certain--it may not
even be true."
Her husband looked at her fondly; his thoughts were evidently very far
away from newspapers and their contents.
As she met his gaze, the rich color flushed her soft cheeks and her eyes
drooped shyly under their long lashes. Love, with her, had not yet
proved an illusion,--a bright toy to be snatched hastily and played with
for a brief while, and then thrown aside as broken and worthless. It
seemed to her a most marvellous and splendid gift of God, increasing
each day in worth and beauty,--widening upon her soul and dazzling her
life in ever new and expanding circles of glory. She felt as if she
could never sufficiently understand it,--the passionate adoration Philip
lavished upon her, filled her with a sort of innocent wonder and
gratitude, while her own overpowering love and worship of him, sometimes
startled her by its force into a sweet shame and hesitating fear.
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