Paul went home to-day . Oh , it is so terrible ! I do n't know how I can bear to live even for a little while without him . But this is silly of me , because I know he has to go and he will write often and come to me often . But , still , it is so lonesome . I did n't cry when he left me because I wanted him to remember me smiling in the way he liked best , but I have been crying ever since and I ca n't stop , no matter how hard I try . We have had such a beautiful fortnight . Every day seemed dearer and happier than the last , and now it is ended and I feel as if it could never be the same again . Oh , I am very foolish -- but I love him so dearly and if I were to lose his love I know I would die . August 17 . I think my heart is dead . But no , it ca n't be , for it aches too much . Paul 's mother came here to see me to-day . She was not angry or disagreeable . I would n't have been so frightened of her if she had been . As it was , I felt that I could n't say a word . She is very beautiful and stately and wonderful , with a low , cold voice and proud , dark eyes . Her face is like Paul 's but without the loveableness of his . She talked to me for a long time and she said terrible things -- terrible , because I knew they were all true . I seemed to see everything through her eyes .
She said that Paul was infatuated with my youth and beauty but that it would not last and what else I XXXXX give him ?
As for if in since than that to with without