Back from New York safe and well and not very tired. Have just come from discussing the latest developments of the coal strike with Father, — our usual evening occupation! (Do you see the papers up there? have you read Hewitt's letter? that seems the most important thing that has happened in the matter for some time.)But I must keep my word and not write a letter. Yours of this morning tells me that you are coming Monday, — and I see from your tone that it is no use urging you to “bide a wee.” If we could only count on its remaining cool it would not matter, but I am afraid we must make up for all this in the first weeks of Sept. There is nothing for you to do here, —as you see not even any mail of consequence. Don't you think you ought to try and content yourself for another week?Of course, if you will come then you won't want to stay in New York overnight if it isn't necessary,— if you can make the half past nine train. So I told Mrs. Stowell I would not be in on Tuesday, but would perhaps come on Wednesday for the sake of the sale.
How do you expect me to keep my head, you dear thing, when you send me such letters as you have done recently — when you lavish upon me such delicious praise? Surely there was never such a lover before, and even after all these years it seems almost too good to be true that you are my lover. All I can say in return is that I love you as you deserve to be loved, — as much as you can possibly want to be loved by