Presidio took the note to his wife, and she declared for opening it. It
was sealed, and addressed to another person; but to let such an
informality as opening another's letters stand in the way of knowing
what was going on around them would have been foreign to the nature of
Presidio activities. This was the note:
"Dear Porter: Your letters to papa will not be answered. I heard
him say so to mamma, yesterday. He is angry that you wrote to him
on the very day I returned from Europe. He will send me back there
if you try to see me, as you say you will, but dear, even at that
cost I must see you once more. I have never forgotten, never ceased
to love; but there is no hope! A companion accompanies me always,
the one you saw in the restaurant; but the maid who will hand you
this is trustworthy, and will bring me any message you give to her.
If you can arrange for a moment's meeting it will give me something
to cherish in my memory through the remainder of my sad and
hopeless life. Only for a moment, dear.
"Caroline."
Mrs. Presidio wept. Here was romance sadder, and therefore better, than
any she had ever read; better, even, than that in the one-act dramas
which followed their turns on the stage. "Have you ever studied his
writing?" she asked her husband; and, promptly divining her plan, he
replied, "I made a few copies of his signature on the Manila hotel
register. You never know what will turn up." After a pause, he added
eagerly, "Better yet!--there was some of his writing in the overcoat I
borrowed from his rooms."
"Write to her; make an appointment, and have him on hand to keep it."
Here was work right in Presidio's line; his professional pride was
fired, and he wrote with grave application:
"Darling Caroline: Thank you, sweetheart, for words which have kept
me from suicide. Love of my life, I can not live until we meet! But
only for a moment? Nay, for ever and ever!"
"That's beautiful!" declared Mrs. Presidio, looking over Willie's
shoulder. He continued:
"I shall hand this to your maid; but you must not meet me there; it
would be too dangerous. Leave your house one-half hour after
receiving this, and go around the corner where you will see a lady,
a relative of mine, who will drive with you to a safe tryst. Trust
her, and heaven speed the hour! With undying love. Porter."
This was all written in a goo
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