That, however, need not worry us. The major, her father, is
well-to-do, and she's an only child; but this is sordid. It is
_she_ that I love, and the man does not live who could see and know
her and not worship. Why, even our old friend Captain Dwight was
fascinated and didn't half like it that I should have gone with her
to Nagasaki, and he was stiff as a ramrod when I came back. But to
return to her father. He, of course, doesn't expect to remain in
the army after the war. He was made major and quartermaster, I
presume because of his financial experience and worth, and he was
so patriotic he felt he had to get into the field as something. He
is a Texan by long residence, if not birth; owns two or three
ranches, and his wife, my darling's mother, is a Spanish lady whom
he met years ago in Cuba, then Senorita de la Cruz y Mendoza y
Fronteras, etc., etc., but she, my lady, never speaks of this. She
is simplicity and sweetness itself. She bears her father's honored
name, and that alone, except for her own Christian name, the
sweetest ever--Inez.

The major's health has suffered much in Manila, but it is hoped
that six weeks in Japan may restore him entirely. If not, they will
take the homeward voyage by way of Vancouver in one of the fine
ships of the Empress line instead of our crowded transports.
Hundreds of State volunteers are going back by every one of these
and, being discharged, or as good as discharged, they consider
themselves relieved from all discipline--which makes it unpleasant
for families of officers. They (the Farrells) may winter in
'Frisco, where I hope to join them in the spring, and where you
will be sure to see them when you and Dad and the squadron embark
for the Islands. There won't be anything left of the insurrection,
or much of the insurrectos, at the rate things are going, by the
time you come, but meanwhile, like the loving Mummie you are, write
to them, especially to _her_, that your future daughter may know a
loving welcome awaits her. She seems timid as to that and fears you
may not like her, and Dad will, of course, write to Major Farrell,
who is as keen a lover of horses as ever he was, and who owns some
of the finest blooded stock ever seen in the South. This letter
goes registered because of the priceless photogr