your

JULIA.

A girl's:

Dear Miss Lisle,--I wonder if you will remember me. I am almost afraid
to hope so. But I met you last summer at the Anstells' garden-party,
and you passed me an ice, vanilla and strawberry mixed! I have never
forgotten it. It was not so much passing the ice, lots of people did
that, as the way you did it. I was very unhappy at the time, and there
was something in your expression as you did it that made me feel you
were unlike any one else I had ever met. I wore green muslin!

I am wondering whether you would come to Cornwall, to stay with us.
The coast is lovely, and in its wildness one can forget one's self,
and that, I think, is what one most wants to do! I know what a help you
would be to me, if you could come, and I will tell you all my troubles
when we have been together some days. One gets to know people by the sea
very quickly, I think, don't you? Although I feel as if I had known you
all my life. My hat was brown, mushroom.

Your sincere friend and admirer,
VERONICA VOKINS

P. S.--I forgot to say that my father and mother will be delighted to
see you. I have ten brothers and sisters, but there is miles of coast,
and I and my five sisters have a sitting-room all to ourselves. Father
says "he" must pass his examinations first. I tell you this because you
will then understand. "He" won the obstacle race at the Anstells', but
he was in a sack, so I expect you did not notice him!

The big, sad Thomas:

Dear Miss Lisle,--For months, in fact since the day you restored the
screw to my small son, I have been trying to write to you on a subject
that may or may not be distasteful to you. That it will come as a
surprise I feel sure. My love for my boy must be my excuse; nothing else
could justify my writing to any woman as I am about to write to you.
Will you be a mother to my Thomas? It would not be honest on my part
to pretend that I can offer you in myself anything but a very sad and
lonely man, the best of me having gone. No one could ever,--or shall
ever, take the place of my beloved wife in my heart, the remains of
which I offer unreservedly to you. For the sake of my boy I am prepared
to sacrifice myself, and I can at least promise you that you shall never
regret by any action of mine whatever sacrifice it may entail on your
part. I shall not insult you by the mention of money matters or any such
things, for I feel sure that the fact of my being a rich man will make