“My daughter keeps well. Very sad, very lonely, in fairly good health, resigned and calm. She never leaves Suertebella. Mona, sweeter every day, sends you three kisses. The wretch holds to his bargain and never molests us. He has turned stock-broker, and they tell me he watches the market with great patience and judgment, and is making a huge fortune. He is clever enough, there is no doubt of that.
“I expect you to eat your Christmas dinner at Suertebella.
“Yours as ever,
“P. Fúcar.
“P. S. If you should come across that queer fellow give him my kind regards—but only mine.”
The End.