We arose, and hand in hand, silent, but with heart speaking to heart, walked slowly homeward. We scarcely spoke. Speech was unnecessary. There was a silent communion of souls, still, yet eloquent. We were one. We were as Adam, when first created, male and female; our simple reunion was bliss.
We are to start together next week for Boston, to be married in the presence of Minnie. Mrs. Allen is glad to be freed from the expense of Rita's outfit. She regrets that "a great traveler, who ought to be wiser, can tie himself down to a chit of a girl." I go to Chicago to-morrow to close up my affairs, and to bring Jim and his wife here. This climate will suit them better than that of Chicago. We will halt in Cincinnati long enough to see you, old fellow, and when married we will go abroad for a year.
Congratulate me, dear Jamison, for I am the happiest of men. Yours, never again to perpetuate a folly.
Jack."
I, too, was happy, for I loved Felden as I had loved no one since my wife and little ones went to Heaven.
Imagine my astonishment, my terror, when some weeks later, I received a short letter mailed at St. Louis.
"Dear Jamison, my true and honest friend:
Forget me forever! Do not try to look me up; never inquire for me; never again mention my name. Henceforth I am dead to the world.
Your friend, Jack."
I did not try to understand these terrible lines. I honored my friend and felt sure he had good reasons for his request. I complied with his demands, except one, I could not forget.