Jany. 22nd

This morning the usual round which I now endeavour to spin out until 12 o’clock. I did not take any lunch to day, and do not approve of the plan, it appears to make the day almost endless. They are long enough as it is. This evening after dinner, we had our second Mess Meeting + I requested to continue to act as Secretary. I hurried in after the meeting to have a talk with you. For I feel so very lonely tonight that I scarce know what to do. How strange that one cannot remain satisfied. When I heard of this appointment I thought, here is a big chance. I can save all my money for 3 years + then come home + take my Lizzie at once + start a private practice. 3 years, I thought is not long and will soon pass, I will be lonely at times, but will get over it. And so I will. I know that you too are lonely at times, and my telling you that I also am, will not tend give you much comfort. But you know I am telling you everything that comes in to my head, + if at times I seem to complain, believe me, my darling, it is not to make you feel uneasy, or wretched but only is a sort of safety valve. How often I think of you, think of you in every conceivable act + place. Try and imagine your thoughts at all hours of the day, twice a day at all events, we both speak not to, but of, each other to a Third Person. Does He not know our thoughts and answer our prayers? Does he not Guide us and guard us in all danger + distress? And in his own good time will He not bring us together again? And that meeting solong hoped for, prayed for, will it not at the last make up for all this weary waiting? Then why should I complain or think of complaining.

I am wondering where our next meeting will be. I picture myself in Toronto, your house on Jarvis Street, the long outside veranda, the little ante room, the inside hall and then yourself. Will it be a surprise? No, I think not. Do you recollect surprising me once, on your return from St. Kitts. I was at the hat rack, I noticed a strange look upon your mother’s face + father’s countenance betrayed some secret + then you rushed down the winding stairs. Will it be in the summer or winter? I don’t know, I rather think in the Early Fall. How many things you will have to show me + what number less questions will you have to answer + to ask. Oh dear, I wish I had a cap like some of the old fairy stories something to put on my head and wish to be in a place, + the carpet would rise + bear me swiftly there. Would it not be nice? Just think, I need only be here about 4 hours of the 24! The rest I could pass with you!

“If wishes were horses then Beggars might ride” The days for all their seeming length swiftly merge themselves into weeks + the weeks into months. Who would ever think that I have been here for more than three months.