deed, working and waiting on my friend, George
Hammond, have occupied all my time.

Now, Bessie, I want you to do something for me. Yesterday, when I got
your letter, I read it aloud as usual, George looking very sad the
while. When I was done he said in a trembling tone, "I wish to heaven
there was some one in the world nearly enough related to me to care to
write to me! But I am alone, entirely alone;" and his eyes filled.
(Forgive his weakness, Bess: he has been very sick.) I tried to cheer
him, but all to no purpose till an idea struck him. His face
brightening, he said, "Do you believe, Philip--I know it is a great deal
to ask--but do you believe you could persuade your cousin to write to
_me_? I should prize it _so_ much. Do you think she _would_? Just fancy
what it is never to receive a letter from any one except a
business-man!"

Now, Bessie, _won't_ you write him once in a while? There is not a
particle of harm in it, and I assure you it will be a real boon to the
poor fellow. Just imagine him lying here on his back day after day, and
not a thing to amuse him but my company!

Of course you'll say that you can have nothing to write about to a
stranger. But you'll soon find something, _I_ know: I'll trust to your
"woman's wit." Ask him about his past life: begin _that_ way. But there!
I'll not give you any advice on the subject: you understand writing
letters better than I do. So good-bye, "fair coz." Pray accede to my
request.

Yours, etc.,
PHILIP A----.

BROOKSIDE, July 1, 1872.

MY DEAREST BESSIE: I'm getting jealous! Twice within a week have you
written to George Hammond, and but once to me. Your letters to him are
long, I know, for I see him read them. The correspondence is become
something desperate--no wonder. He has just told me that through your
letters he has become very deeply attached to you, and that when I
return home at the end of another week he will come and plead his cause
personally. He asks my benediction. I am sure he has my most hearty good
wishes, and I do hope, Bessie dear, you may be inclined to say "Yes."
Then, after you are married, you can come out here and settle down near
your only remaining relative for the rest of your natural existence. You
smile and shake your head, and say, "Oh yes, that will last till Philip
marries!" But I say that if I see you and George Hammond uni