JUNE 19.
I no longer remember where I stopped in my narrative: I only know it was two
in the morning when I went to bed; and if you had been with me, that I might
have talked instead of writing to you, I should, in all probability, have kept you
up till daylight.
I think I have not yet related what happened as we rode home from the ball,
nor have I time to tell you now. It was a most magnificent sunrise: the whole
country was refreshed, and the rain fell drop by drop from the trees in the forest.
Our companions were asleep. Charlotte asked me if I did not wish to sleep also,
and begged of me not to make any ceremony on her account. Looking
steadfastly at her, I answered, “As long as I see those eyes open, there is no fear
of my falling asleep.” We both continued awake till we reached her door. The
maid opened it softly, and assured her, in answer to her inquiries, that her father
and the children were well, and still sleeping. I left her asking permission to visit
her in the course of the day. She consented, and I went, and, since that time, sun,
moon, and stars may pursue their course: I know not whether it is day or night;
the whole world is nothing to me.
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