“And my acquaintance with Miss Swift is so slight—­I never saw her but once, and then only for a moment!—­that it would be only painful and embarrassing to her if you asked her to call on me.  Besides, you are a man and you don’t understand such things.  Also, Mrs. Collis and Miss Swift have only the slightest and most formal acquaintance with Helene; and it is very plain that they are as content with that acquaintance as is Helene.  And in addition to that, you dear stupid boy, your family has carefully ignored Mr. Cardemon for years, although he is their neighbour; and Mr. Cardemon is here.  And to cap the climax, your father and mother are at Ashuelyn. Can’t you understand?

“Dearest of men, don’t put your family and yourself—­and me—­into such a false position.  I know you won’t when I have explained it; I know you trust me; I know you love me dearly.

“We had a straw ride.  There’s no new straw, of course, so we had a wagon filled with straw from one of the barns and we drove to Lake Gentian and Querida was glorious in the moonlight with his guitar.

“He’s so nice to me now—­so like himself.  But I hate Penrhyn Cardemon and I wish he would go; and he’s taken a fancy to me, and for Helene’s sake I don’t snub him—­the unmitigated cad!

“However, it takes all kinds to make even the smallest of house parties; and I continue to be very happy and to write to you every day.

“Sam is queer.  I’m beginning to wonder whether he is really in love with Helene.  If he isn’t he ought to have his knuckles rapped.  Of course, Helene will be sensible about it.  But, Louis, when a really nice man behaves as though he were in love with a woman, no matter how gaily she laughs over it, it is bound to mean something to her.  And men don’t seem to understand that.”

“Mrs. Hind-Willet departs to-morrow.  Sam and Harry go to Ashuelyn; Mr. Cardemon to his rural palace, I devoutly trust; which will leave Jose to Helene and me; and he’s equal to it.

“How long may I stay, dear?  I am having a heavenly time—­which is odd because heaven is in New York just now.”

Another letter in answer to one of his was briefer: 

“My Darling: 

“Certainly you must go to Ashuelyn if your father and mother wish it.  They are old, dear; and it is a heartless thing to thwart the old.

“Don’t think of attempting to come over here to see me.  The chances are that your family would hear of it and it would only pain them.  Any happiness that you and I are ever to have must not be gained at any expense to them.

“So keep your distance, Monsieur; make your parents and your sister happy for the few days you are to be there; and on Thursday I will meet you on the 9.30 train and we will go back to town together.

“I am going anyway, for two reasons; I have been away from you entirely too long, and—­the First of June is very, very near.