n for my solitary age; in Margarita a daughter, the
most tender as she is the most beautiful that the world contains. To
close my aged eyes on seeing them unified, is, I repeat it, the one wish
of,

Honoured Senor,
Your most obedient and humble servitor,
MIGUEL PIETOSO.

LAS ROSAS, June --, 1898.

MY DEAR MR. MONFORT:--I have just read your letter to my mother, and I
want to thank you before I do anything else. There isn't much to say,
except that I will do my best to be in some degree worthy of this
treasure, if I win it. I will try to make her happy, sir, I will indeed.
No one could be good enough for her, so I will not pretend to that.

She is awake now, so I must go.

Gratefully yours,
JOHN DELMONTE.

LAS ROSAS, Evening.

DEAREST, DEAREST MARGARET:--Why are you not here? I want you--oh, I want
you so much! I am so happy, so wonderfully, almost _terribly_ happy, how
can I put it on paper? The paper will light itself, will burn up for
joy, I think; but I will try. Listen! an hour ago--it is an evening of
heaven, the moon was shining for me, for me and--oh, but wait! I was in
the garden, resting after the day's work; I had been asleep, and now
would take the remainder of my free time in waking rest. The air was
balm, the roses all in blossom. Such roses were never seen, Marguerite;
the place is named for them, Las Rosas. They are in bowers, in garlands,
in heaps and mounds--I smell them now. The rose is my flower, remember
that, my life long. I used to tell you it was the jessamine; the
jessamine is a simpleton, I tell you. I was picking white roses, the
kind that blushes a little warm at its heart--when I heard some one
coming. I knew who it was; can I tell how? It was Captain Jack. I
trembled. He came to me, he spoke, he took my hand. Oh, my dear, my
dear, I cannot tell you what he said; but he loves me; he is my Jack, I
am his Rita. Marguerite, will you tell me how it can be true? Your wild,
silly, foolish Rita, playing at emotions all her childish life: she
wakes up, she begins to try to be a little like you, my best one; and
all of a sudden she finds herself in Paradise, with a warrior
angel--Marguerite, I did not think of it t