Mamma, how difficult it was to screw up my courage to tell him I was
married--he has such nice brown eyes;--and although his language is more
remarkable than anything you ever heard, he is not the least little bit
common. At last I blurted it out straight and explained and asked him to
forgive me. He looked away at the sea for quite five minutes and his jaw
was square as a box. Then he turned round and held out his hand. "Say," he
said, "I expect you didn't mean to play a low down trick on me but it has
hit pretty straight anyway. We'll shake hands and I reckon I'll keep out of
your track for a day or so till I size up things and put them on the new
elevation." And then he went away, saying, "Good evening, Lady Valmond." I
could have cried, Mamma, I felt so small and paltry. He is a great big
splendid creature and I wish I had not been so silly as to pretend in the
beginning. Octavia thinks him delightful. He never appeared for two
days--then he came up as if nothing had happened; only he looks at my hat
or my chin or my feet now and never into my eyes as before, and he calls me
Lady Valmond every other minute--and that is irritating. We shall get in
to-morrow and this will be posted at Sandy Hook, so good-night, dearest
Mamma.

Your affectionate daughter,
ELIZABETH.




PLAZA HOTEL, NEW YORK


PLAZA HOTEL,
_NEW YORK._