Читать книгу Vistas of New York - Brander Matthews - Страница 19

Table of Contents

NEW YORK, March 17, 1895.

DEAR MIRIAM,—It’s two weeks now since I wrote you in answer to your letter saying you would break off our engagement unless I promised never to speak to Miss Stanwood again—and you have never sent me a line since. You seemed to think I cared for her—but I don’t. How could I care for any other girl, loving you as I do? Besides, even if I did care for her, I’d have to get over it now—since she is going to marry an officer in the navy. The wedding is set for next June, and then he takes her with him to Japan. For all you are so jealous of her, I think she is a nice girl and I hope she will be happy.

And I want to be happy, too—and I’ve been miserable ever since I got that letter of yours, so cold and so hard. I don’t see how a little bit of a girl like you can hold so much temper! But I love you in spite of it, and I don’t believe I’d really have you different if I could. So sit right down as soon as you get this and write me a good long letter, forgiving me for all I haven’t done and saying you still love me a little bit. You do, don’t you, Miriam? And if you do what’s the use of our waiting ever so long? Why shouldn’t we be married in June, too?

I’m getting on splendidly in the store and guess I’ll get another raise soon; and even now I have enough for two, if you are willing to start in with a little flat somewhere up in Harlem. We’d have to try light housekeeping at first, maybe, and perhaps table-board somewhere. But I don’t care what I eat or where I eat if only I can have you sitting at the table with me. Say you will, Miriam dear, say you will! There’s no use in our putting it off and putting it off till we’ve both got gray hair, is there?

JACK.