MARTIGNY, Thursday, July 7th, 1864.
—The day month since our marriage. A month of ever-deepening happiness, just now of a peculiar brightness and absence of care : a sort of rocking on bright waves before launching out upon new seas—which I know is never to come again ; but as long as this wonderful sunshine is poured round me—I mean the great, new sunshine of our love for each other—all the coming waves must look bright to me ; as the past ones have the golden radiance of memory upon them. Only may all such light and joy lead us nearer to God.
We rode and walked in lovely weather to Camballas ; there, having leisure, sat in the flowery long grass, and read "Westward Ho !" and had milk and bread and butter ; then a most lovely drive down the deep rich valley des Ormondes to Aigle in the valley of the Rhone. Here we walked up a moderately high, but nearly perpendicular hill, and enjoyed a sight of Lake Leman and some noble mountain-tops ; then had dinner, and went on by railway to Martigny ; having to-day therefore walked, ridden, driven, and railwayd. Got into a bus at Martigny crammed with English folk, but they don't seem to overrun this hotel. Why does one hate and despise nearly all one's fellow-countrymen abroad ?
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