freely from all except
Jim at nearly every interruption.

"Father, this is supposed to be the proper way to make love," said
Nellie, and she began to read:

"'My Darling Margaret:

"'Your letter of this morning bids me with many playful thrusts to be
more hopeful during your absence, which you say will be brief in one
paragraph and in another that it will be "about three months." How is
it possible for me to reconcile these statements? Three months may be
an eternity. The criminal bound and held beneath the spigot, from
which water, drop by drop, pounds with thundering impact upon his hot
head, and the idlers in sylvan dells, view time differently. Your
advice, though, shall be taken and followed with such will as I am
able to command. Weakness, backsliding from my purpose to be as
cheerful as you wish, you must forgive. If you would have me display
an even interest in life, undisturbed by the moaning which creeps
into these letters, you know the sure, swift course to take--the
fastest express train to New York, and a telegram summoning me to the
depot--that is all.

"'For the past two nights my sleep has been blessed with visions more
lovely and hope inspiring. Fear has been driven away, to give place
to fairer thoughts of you. Not to dream of you crowded the hours of
absence too heavily upon me. Henceforth I am determined that you
shall be with me in my thoughts, tenderly ministering to me with
those eyes whose soft light I would have my steady beacons. Darling
Margaret, their flickering, or the fear that they will flicker, sets
me almost crazy.

"'Thy form appears through night, through day:
Awake, with it my fancy teems;
In sleep, it smiles in fleeting dreams--
The vision charms the hours away,
And bids me curse Aurora's ray,
For breaking slumbers of delight,
Which make me wish for endless night;
Since, oh! whate'er my future fate,
Shall joy or woe my steps await,
Tempted by love, by storms beset,
Thine image I can ne'er forget.'"

"He pursued her hard," interrupted Mr. Gibson. "I can remember when I
used to feel that way about girls, but I couldn't put it on paper."

"Indeed!" exclaimed Mrs. Gibson. "What you put on paper would never
compromise you. The name of the man who wrote the letter, you
understand, father, is not known, and neither do we know the woman.
Still, I hardly think it c