She loved the great , restless harbor and the vast , misty sea beyond ; she loved the tides , keeping their world-old tryst with the shore , and the gulls , and the croon of the waves , and the call of the winds in the fir woods at noon and even ; she loved the moonrises and the sunsets , and the clear , calm nights when the stars seemed to have fallen into the water and to be a little dizzy from such a fall . She loved these things , even as I did . No , she was never lonely here then . The third spring came , and our boy was born . We thought we had been happy before ; now we knew that we had only dreamed a pleasant dream of happiness , and had awakened to this exquisite reality . We thought we had loved each other before ; now , as I looked into my wife 's pale face , blanched with its baptism of pain , and met the uplifted gaze of her blue eyes , aglow with the holy passion of motherhood , I knew we had only imagined what love might be . The imagination had been sweet , as the thought of the rose is sweet before the bud is open ; but as the rose to the thought , so was love to the imagination of it . `` All my thoughts are poetry since baby came , '' my wife said once , rapturously . Our boy lived for twenty months . He was a sturdy , toddling rogue , so full of life and laughter and mischief that , when he died , one day , after the illness of an hour , it seemed a most absurd thing that he should be dead -- a thing I could have laughed at , until belief forced itself into my soul like a burning , searing iron . I think I grieved over my little son 's death as deeply and sincerely as ever man did , or could . But the heart of the father is not as the heart of the mother . Time brought no healing to Josephine ; she fretted and pined ; her cheeks lost their pretty oval , and her red mouth grew pale and drooping . I hoped that spring might work its miracle upon her . When the buds swelled , and the old earth grew green in the sun , and the gulls came back to the gray harbor , whose very grayness grew golden and mellow , I thought I should see her smile again . But , when the spring came , came the dream-child , and the fear that was to be my companion , at bed and board , from sunsetting to sunsetting . One night I awakened from sleep , realizing in the moment of awakening that I was alone . I listened to hear whether my wife were moving about the house . I heard nothing but the little splash of waves on the shore below and the low moan of the distant ocean . I rose and searched the house .
She was not XXXXX it .
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