Tuesday evening when John called he brought me a box of Whitman's chocolates for my birthday. He asked me for the last time if I would marry him - and I told him no - sending him away hurt - and leaving me to my misery.
Wednesday, my birthday, I was ill and miserable and trying hard not to let the family see it. Just before six I mailed John a special delivery note. At dinner, an extra special one, Alice gave me a beautiful dinner ring. I had cards from a number of friends - including a very formal one from John.
Thursday morning John called me. I had dinner with him in town. He met me in the train shed with a kiss. He was visibly nervous and so was I - as I had been all day long. I told him I will marry him in the spring and to my surprise, found myself gloriously happy and all cares apparently gone.
Today my heart and mind have been at peace until tonight when I told my sister my bit of news and had my first cut. "Are you going to keep your job?" "Yes." "You'll have to." "When is he going to give you your ring?" She didn't say a word about being glad - well I guess she isn't. I might as well school myself in cuts. Nobody but Mother will be glad - and she will be glad because I am.
I am beginning now to feel the strain of the last few days and shall probably cry my happy yet sad self to sleep.