Dr.
Farr's daughter.

Are you satisfied now? I don't know whether I mentioned it, but she
hasn't actually said "yes" yet. She had certain objections, or rather a
certain objection which I found it necessary to meet in a--a somewhat
regrettable manner. I was compelled to adopt strategy. She thought our
proposed contract (we do things in a business manner) might not be
quite fair to me. She was ready to admit that I was getting a good
thing in secretaries but she feared that, later on, I might wish to
make a change. I had to meet this scruple somehow and I seemed to know
by instinct that she would not believe me if I expounded those theories
of love and marriage which you know I so strongly hold. Pure reason
would not appeal to her. So I had to fall back upon sentiment. Instead
of saying, "I shall never love. It is impossible," I said, "I have
loved. It is over."

Sound tactics, don't you think? ... Well I don't care what you think!
I have to get this girl safely placed somehow.

We shall have to elope probably. Fancy, an elopement at thirty-five!
The father seems to consider her continued presence here as vital to
his interest, though why, neither of us can understand. Well, I'm not
exactly afraid of the old chap but it will certainly be easier for her
if there are no wild farewells. Therefore we shall probably fold our
tent like the Arabs and steal away as silently as the "Tillicum" will
allow.

Li Ho will have to be told. He will know anyway, so we may as well tell
him. It appears that whatever may be the reasons for keeping a young
girl buried here, they do not extend to Li Ho. It will not be the first
time that his Chinese inscrutability has assisted at a (temporary)
departure.

I shall let Aunt Caroline know as soon as the act is irrevocable and
shall inform you at the same time so that you may not be unprepared.
You realize, I suppose, that you will be accused of being accessory?
Didn't you tell me that a trip would do me good?

We shall not come home for a few weeks. My secretary has spoken of an
old Indian whom she knows, a perfect mine of simon-pure folk-lore. He
lives some-where up the coast, about a day's journey, I think. We may
visit him. With her to interpret for me, I may get some very valuable
notes. I may add that we are both very keen on notes. When we have done
what can be done out here, we shall come home. The fall and winter we
shall spend upon the book. My secretary will insist upon attendin