“Your dear and most welcome letter received to-day is the very first I have had from you, my beloved friend, since parting with you, nearly six mouths ago, at the steamboat pier in Washington city. I can easily understand why the many letters you have written to me within the last half year, previous to this one, have not reached me. But though I do so well understand this, I cannot explain it to you. I am in deep trouble, almost in despair, yet must not tell you why—at least, not at present. The time may come when all shall be made clear. In the meanwhile, trust me, my beloved friend, and always think of me as your true and loving
Roma.
“That letter,” said Roma to herself, “will reveal nothing of which she ought for the present to remain in ignorance. She will think that my dear Will has fulfilled all Aunt Ruth’s dark predictions, of which she caught an echo when she was with us before the wedding. She will think that he is insane; and, ah, me! she may not be far wrong. She will be sorry for me, and she will write to me; but, let us see—she must not direct her letters to Mrs. William Harcourt here. It would be embarrassing; nor can I tell her not to do it without giving her the explanation that it is impossible now to give. I must add a postscript to that letter of mine.”
She drew the sheet toward her, and wrote:
“P.S.—Direct all your letters to me under cover to Mr. Amos Merritt, Louisiana Avenue, Washington.”
Then she wrote a short note to her late guardian and present attorney, merely saying:
“My old friend, from whom I have no secrets, I reinclose Miss Bushe’s letter, with my answer to it. You will readily understand my policy. You will please receive all the letters that she may write to me, and inclose them to me as in this instance. Please mail my letter to Miss Bushe from the Washington post office.”
She placed the two letters in the same envelope with this note, and addressed the package to Mr. Merritt.
Having done this, she went to work to answer her foreign letters.
While Roma was so engaged her little protégée, with her double-funnel hat on her head, wandered away into the delightful garden, which, to her apprehension, was a very Garden of Eden.