them to a woman he afterwards killed, for the simple purpose of marrying
an accomplished lady of means, who is also a listener with him at the
recital. It is one of the rules in reading aloud second-hand
love-letters, never to have these conditions present, for they are apt
to induce distress in both parties. Had I been consulted with full
details presented for my consideration, I know I should have advised
against it.

Gabrielle and Jim listened to the reading of the letter left in the sun
parlor. It seemed to be public property, as there was no name attached
to it, and so it went the rounds of the hospital. Hygeia had intended to
read it for my entertainment first, but before doing so she chanced to
read it in the next room; perhaps because she thought the audience would
know more than I did of such matters, and would be more appreciative. In
this she was not mistaken. Jim's interest was there in cold shivers,
which made the springs hum and the slat gables whistle. Gabrielle
laughed and giggled like a schoolgirl.

"It's the funniest letter you ever heard," declared Hygeia, who seemed
to lose sight of its serious character. "I am sure you will both think
it so."

"If it's a love-letter, ought we to trifle with it?" asked Gabrielle.
"The man or woman to whom it belongs might not regard it as a joke."

"There are no names on it, and it will never be claimed now," said
Hygeia, hesitatingly.

"Read it, by all means, then, to cheer us," said Gabrielle.

Hygeia proceeded to read this collaboration of R. Burns and B. Hopkins:

"'My Darling Margaret: During your visits to the country your letters
cheer me as I fondly dwell upon the sweet suggestive thought that you
are ever thinking of me, as I am thinking of you, every waking and
dreaming moment. I fade away into dreamland, hand in hand with you,
and joyously together like innocent children we walk across the broad
meadows and through the woods to some hidden bower by the brook;
there as I look up into your eyes, the pebbly streamlet flashing a
glint of wayward sunshine, the wooing songbirds and the reposeful
harmonies of Nature soothe me like your tender glances when they fall
upon me alone. Aye, quite alone I would have them fall, to produce
that magic sensation of a dream's delight. Then when I awake in the
morning and realize that you are far, far away, and read your latest
letter again with pangs of the bitterest remorse, I d