y, proputty, proputty--that's what I 'ears 'em saaey."

The tune of this kept me silent all the while we galloped: this and
Pembury, a name that glows to me now like the New Jerusalem.

And do you understand, Beloved? or must I say more? My freedom has made
its nest under my uncle's roof: but I _am_ a quite independent person in
other ways besides character.

Well, Pembury was settled on your own initiative: and I looked on proud
and glad. Now I have my own little word to add, merely a tail that wags
and makes merry over a thing decided and done. Do you forgive me for
this: and for the greater offense of being quite shy at having to write
it?

My Aunt thanks you for the game: for my part I cannot own that it will
taste sweeter to me for being your own shooting. And please, whatever
else you do big and grand and dangerous, respect my superstitions and
don't shoot any larks this winter. In the spring I would like to think
that here or there an extra lark bubbles over because I and my whims
find occasional favor in your sight. When I ask great favors you always
grant them; and so, Ahasuerus, grant this little one to your beautifully
loving.

* * * * *

Give me the credit of being conscious of it, Beloved: postscripts I
never _do_ write. I am glad you noticed it. If I find anything left out
I start another letter: _this_ is that other letter: it goes into the
same envelope merely for company, and signs itself yours in all state.

LETTER LI.

Dearest: It was so nice and comedy to see the Mother-Aunt this
morning importantly opening a letter from you all to herself with the
pleasure quite unmixed by any inclosure for me, or any other letter in
the house _to_ me so far as she was aware. I listened to you with new
ears, discovering that you write quite beautifully in the style which I
never get from you. Don't, because I admire you in your more formal
form, alter in your style to me. I prefer you much, for my own part,
formless: and feel nearer to your heart in an unfinished sentence than
in one that is perfectly balanced. Still I want you to know that your
cordial warmed her dear old heart and makes her not think now that she
has let me see too much of you. She was just beginning to worry herself
jealously into that belief the last two days: and Arthur's taking to you
helped to the same end. Very well; I seem to understand everybody's
oddities now,--having made a complete study o