away from me to the sea, or to some
distant object in the landscape; her fingers would play with the leaves
of a book in a way that convinced me she was not listening. At these
moments if I abruptly changed the theme--I did it several times as an
experiment--and dropped some remark about my friend Flemming, then the
sombre blue eyes would come back to me instantly.

Now, is not this the oddest thing in the world? No, not the oddest. The
effect which you tell me was produced on you by my casual mention of
an unknown girl swinging in a hammock is certainly as strange. You can
conjecture how that passage in your letter of Friday startled me. Is it
possible, than, that two people who have never met, and who are hundreds
of miles apart, can exert a magnetic influence on each other? I have
read of such psychological phenomena, but never credited them. I leave
the solution of the problem to you. As for myself, all other things
being favorable, it would be impossible for me to fall in love with a
woman who listens to me only when I am talking of my friend!

I am not aware that any one is paying marked attention to my
fair neighbor. The lieutenant of the navy--he is stationed at
Rivermouth--sometimes drops in of an evening, and sometimes the rector
from Stillwater; the lieutenant the oftener. He was there last night. I
should not be surprised if he had an eye to the heiress; but he is not
formidable. Mistress Daw carries a neat little spear of irony, and
the honest lieutenant seems to have a particular facility for impaling
himself on the point of it. He is not dangerous, I should say; though I
have known a woman to satirize a man for years, and marry him after all.
Decidedly, the lowly rector is not dangerous; yet, again, who has not
seen Cloth of Frieze victorious in the lists where Cloth of Gold went
down?

As to the photograph. There is an exquisite ivory-type of Marjorie, in
passe-partout, on the drawing room mantel-piece. It would be missed at
once if taken. I would do anything reasonable for you, Jack; but I've no
burning desire to be hauled up before the local justice of the peace, on
a charge of petty larceny.

P.S.--Enclosed is a spray of mignonette, which I advise you to treat
tenderly. Yes, we talked of you again last night, as usual. It is
becoming a little dreary for me.

VIII.

EDWARD DELANEY TO JOHN FLEMMING.

August 22, 1872.

Your letter in reply to my last has occupied my thoughts all the
morn