I am as Caliban among the spirits!
Reflecting on your letter, I am not sure that it is wise in me to
continue this correspondence. But no, Jack; I do wrong to doubt the
good sense that forms the basis of your character. You are deeply
interested in Miss Daw; you feel that she is a person whom you may
perhaps greatly admire when you know her: at the same time you bear
in mind that the chances are ten to five that, when you do come to
know her, she will fall far short of your ideal, and you will not
care for her in the least. Look at it in this sensible light, and I
will hold back nothing from you.
Yesterday afternoon my father and myself rode over to Rivermouth
with the Daws. A heavy rain in the morning had cooled the
atmosphere and laid the dust. To Rivermouth is a drive of eight
miles, along a winding road lined all the way with wild barberry
bushes. I never saw anything more brilliant than these bushes, the
green of the foliage and the faint blush of the berries intensified
by the rain. The colonel drove, with my father in front, Miss Daw
and I on the back seat. I resolved that for the first five miles
your name should not pass my lips. I was amused by the artful
attempts she made, at the start, to break through my reticence.
Then a silence fell upon her; and then she became suddenly gay.
That keenness which I enjoyed so much when it was exercised on the
lieutenant was not so satisfactory directed against myself.
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