Her fingers were shaking as she
opened the envelope that bore his boyish scrawl.
An enclosure fell out before she had withdrawn his letter. She caught it
up hastily before the wind could take possession. It was an unmounted
photograph--actually the portrait of a girl.
Evelyn stared at the roguish, laughing face with a great amazement.
Then, with a haste that baffled its own ends, she sought his letter.
It began with astounding jauntiness:
"DEAR OLD EVE,--What a pair of superhuman idiots we have
been! Many thanks for your sweet letter, which did me no end of
good. I never loved you so much before, dear. Can you believe it? I
am not surprised that you feel unequal to the task of keeping me in
order for the rest of our natural lives. Will it surprise you to
know that I had my doubts on the matter even when I wrote to
suggest it? Never mind, dear old girl, I understand. And may the
right man turn up soon and make you happy for the rest of your
life!
"I am sending a photograph of a girl who till three weeks ago was
no more than a friend to me, but has since become my _fiancee_.
Love is a wonderful thing, Eve. It comes upon you so suddenly and
carries you away before you have time to realise what has happened.
At least that has been my experience. There is no mistaking the
real thing when it actually comes to you.
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