hin my reach.] You pierce my soul. I am half agony,
half hope. Tell me not that I am too late, that such precious feelings
are gone for ever. I offer myself to you again with a heart even more
your own than when you almost broke it, eight years and a half ago. Dare
not say that man forgets sooner than woman, that his love has an earlier
death. I have loved none but you. Unjust I may have been, weak and
resentful I have been, but never inconstant. [underlined: You alone have
brought me to Bath. For you alone, I think and plan. Have you not seen
this? Can you fail to have understood my wishes? I had not waited even
these ten days, could I have read your feelings, as I think you must
have penetrated mine.] I can hardly write. I am every instant hearing
something which overpowers me. You sink your voice, but I can
distinguish the tones of that voice when they would be lost on others.
Too good, too excellent creature! You do us justice indeed. You do
believe that there is true attachment and constancy among men. Believe
it to be most fervent, most undeviating, in

'F. W.'

Of course, this means nothing. Somebody has been reading the book, and
marked it idly as he (or she) read. I can imagine someone's underlining
a splendid sentiment like 'Dare not say that man forgets sooner than
woman!' but why should a reader lay stress on such a simple sentence as
'You alone brought me to Bath'?

_He_

Gloucester, _June 10,_
The Golden Slipper.

Nothing accomplished yet. Her aunt is a Van Tyck, and a stiff one, too.
I am a Copley, and that delays matters. Much depends upon the manner of
approach. A false move would be fatal. We have seven more towns (as per
itinerary), and if their thirst for cathedrals isn't slaked when these
are finished, we have the entire Continent to do. If I could only
succeed in making an impression on the retina of Aunt Celia's eye!
Though I have been under her feet for ten days, she never yet has
observed me. This absent-mindedness of hers serves me ill now, but it
may prove a blessing later on.

I made two modest moves on the chessboard of Fate yesterday, but they
were so very modest and mysterious that I almost fear they were never
noticed.

_She_

Gloucester, _June 10_,
In Impossible Lodgings chosen by Me.

Something else awfully exciting has happened.

When we walked down the railway platform at Bath, I saw a pink placard
pasted on the window of a first-clas