I can't write any
more for crying. I do nothing but cry ever since papa was so cruel; but I
must obey. Your loving, sorrowful
"MARY."
This letter was a chilling blow to poor Walter. He took it into his own
room and read it again and again. It brought the tears into his own eyes,
and discouraged him deeply for a time. But, of course, he was not so
disposed to succumb to authority as the weaker vessel was. He wrote back:
"My own Love,--Don't grieve for me. I don't care for anything so long as
you love me. I shall resist, of course. As for my father, I am going to
marry Julia to Percy Fitzroy, and so end my governor's nonsense. As for
your father, I do not despair of softening him. It is only a check; it is
not a defeat. Who on earth can part us if we are true to each other? God
bless you, dearest! I did not think you loved me so much. Your letter
gives me comfort forever, and only disappointment for a time. Don't fret,
sweet love. It will be all right in the end.
"Your grateful, hopeful love, till death, WALTER.
Pages:
132
133
134
135
136
137
138
139
140
141
142
143
144
145
146
147
148
149
150
151
152
153
154
155
156