Julius and I wrote to each other every day, but the mails were so tedious and uncertain that we usually got each other's letters by threes or fours, with days full of anxiety and heart-ache between.
I still have the package of letters received then. I have just been reading them over again. Bruno pervades them all. It is—
"Took Bruno with me to the office to-day, he begged so hard when I started to leave him; it's lonely for him, poor fellow!"
And—
"While I ate breakfast, I had the waiter put up a good lunch for Boonie; he's getting tired of biscuit, and I don't like to give him raw bones."
On Sunday,—
"I took Bruno a long walk in the suburbs to-day. It did him a lot of good."
A letter written just before I returned says,—
"Bruno seems down-hearted to-night; I think he misses somebody."
I returned as soon as Julius wrote that he had procured a house. The welcome I received told me that Bruno was not the only one who had missed "somebody."