M——, June 10, 19—.
My Dear Eva:—
I cannot tell you with what impatient anxiety I have been awaiting your answer to my letter, and though you were too good to keep me long in suspense, still the interval between writing to you and hearing from you, was passed by me in alternate fear and hope—fear that I had mistaken your feelings, and hope that perhaps you did care for me a little. At present I can hardly realize the happiness of knowing that I may soon call you mine; it is the fulfillment of my most cherished wishes.
Believe me, dearest, it will be my one thought and care to render your life a happy one, and if we both love and trust each other we may, I hope, look forward to a bright future together. I was much gratified by your father's message to me, and I shall hope to run down to R—— on Saturday next as he so kindly proposes. In the meantime, will you not send me a photo of yourself that I may show it to my mother, who is most anxious to know you, having heard from her son how sweet and lovable you are?
I remain, dearest Eva,
Your devoted
Edwin Drummond.
231. To a Lady to Whom the Writer Has Become Recently Engaged.
Hotel Cecil, L——,
July 18, 19—.
My Dearest Maud:—
I am conceited enough to hope that you have become a trifle impatient awaiting news from me. I arrived here last night rather fatigued from a hurried journey and a rough crossing. I shall hope to find a letter from you on my arrival at the Hotel du Palais, Paris. You may be sure I shall not remain away from you a day longer than is absolutely necessary to complete the business I have on hand, and you will, I am sure, give me the welcome I deserve for having made such haste to return to you. I picture you sitting under the chestnut trees on the dear old lawn, and, I trust, thinking of me. Excuse a short note to-day, I find it difficult to collect my thoughts. I leave this by the evening mail.