“My dear Poe,” he began, in his simple familiar way, “I am sorry to see you in such plight as your letter shows you in.  It is strange that just at the time when everybody is praising you and when Fortune has begun to smile upon your hitherto wretched circumstances you should be invaded by these villainous blue devils.  It belongs however, to your age and temper to be thus buffeted—­but be assured it only wants a little resolution to master the adversary forever.  Rise early, live generously, and make cheerful acquaintances and I have no doubt you will send these misgivings of the heart all to the Devil.  You will doubtless do well henceforth in literature and add to your comforts as well as your reputation which it gives me great pleasure to tell you is everywhere rising in popular esteem.”

This and more he wrote, in kind, encouraging vein, and closed his letter with a friendly invitation: 

“Write to me frequently, and believe me very truly

    “Yours,

    “JOHN P. KENNEDY.”

The same post that brought Mr. Kennedy’s letter brought The Dreamer other mail from Baltimore—­brought him letters from both Virginia and Mother Clemm.

They had an especial reason for writing, each said.  They had news for him—­news which was most disturbing to them and they feared it would be to him.

Disturbing indeed, was the news the letters brought.  It drove him into a rage and aroused him into action which made him forget all of his late troubles.

Their Cousin Neilson and his wife, they wrote him, had not ceased to bring every argument they could think of to bear upon Virginia to induce her to break her engagement and had finally proposed that they should take her into their home, treat her as an own daughter or young sister, providing for her all things needful and desirable for a young girl of her station, until her eighteenth birthday, after which if she and Edgar had not changed their minds, they could be married.

He dashed off and posted answers to the letters at once, making violent protest against a scheme that seemed to him positively iniquitous and pleading with “Muddie” to keep Virginia for him.  But writing was not enough.  He determined to answer in person.

A day or two later Virginia and her mother were in the act of discussing his letters, which had just come, when the sitting-room door quietly opened, and there stood the man who was all the world to them!

Virginia, with a scream of delight, was in his arms in a flash and began telling him, breathlessly, what a fright she had been in for fear “Cousin Neilson” would take her away and she would never see him again.

With a rising tide of tenderness for her and rage against their cousin, he kissed the trouble from her eyes.

“Don’t be afraid, sweetheart,” he murmured, “He shall never take you from me.  I have come back to marry you!”

“To marry her?” exclaimed Mrs. Clemm.  “At once, do you mean?”