A Wedding

Ludlow has asked me to marry him. I have my Aunt Lydia's wedding ring to wear. Ludlow has given me a mourning brooch with a braid of his mother's hair. He wept as he gave it to me. "How she would have loved you, as I do," he cried. I stroked his brown curls. He is such a little boy, sometimes. Although I am only eighteen, I sometimes feel much older than he. We will make a life together, and be brave for one another. Papa has asked us to live with him and Mother for a time, until Ludlow's writing has a chance to take hold. We do not want his prior reputation to take over all of his writing, especially as Papa is in the Legislature and must be mindful of public opinion. So Ludlow must find another means of going on, and he and Papa have had many earnest and manly talks about it. I believe he is going to be a very fine writer, and only needs to find his way into steady work with a magazine or journal, or even a newspaper. While we are here in Waterville, Papa has arranged for Ludlow to work for Mr Henderson at the Times, so that he will not lose the habit of writing and so that his name is before the public. It is such a lovely arrangement, and when we return from our wedding trip to Florida, we will start to look for a place of our own in New York City.

My Father's Home

A Fall

The day was sultry and Benjamin would not come down to the river with me. I went by myself, and pulled the boat into the stream by myself. What a stupid, obstinate boy Benjamin is, now that he is fourteen! I had a lovely row and returned in good time for dinner, but as I prepared to step onto the bank, a man startled me by suddenly appearing and taking the boat's rope to help me. I faltered in my stride, and dropped into the water! My dress floated up around me like a bell, my new black straw was soaked entirely, and my petticoats floated up around my knees. The man did me the courtesy of not laughing, but I could tell that he was amused by the way his small, deep set eyes twinkled. After helping me up, he waded into the water and then swam strongly with great strokes to the boat, which had started itself downstream quite merrily, and brought it in, but by the time he clambered out, I had run half-way to the house. Mrs Hudson did not like my coming through the kitchen, soaking wet and dripping buckets, at all, and I had a hard time explaining my lateness at dinner. "Oh, Rosey, why did you bother to change for dinner on such a hot day!" complained Mother, but I quickly changed the topic to our upcoming trip to Albany, which started her off complaining about the dust on the roads, thank heaven! That man must be the McClellan's guest from Dusseldorf, a painter I think, for I thought I detected the slightest of accents in his speech. But nevermind, I am sure I will never see him again as we leave for the capital tomorrow.

Rosalie

I knew the moment I met him that he would be my making and my unmaking.