Little Falls herald., 1900-11-30
ENCHANTED LETTER.
BY WALKER KENNEDY.

.
BY WALKER KENNEDY. -
Copyright. 1899, Daily Story Publishing co.,
After dinner John Saintsbuy repaired to
his rooms with nothing more serious upon
his mind than the writing Of two letters.
1t. was a clear, cold winter evening, with
just bit too much of whipping wind to
be comfortable, and it was with sense Of
relief that he entered his comforta bic
apartments and found cheerful fire blaz.
ing in the crate in his sitting-room. Saints
bury was one Of those young fellows who
may be described as "nicely fixed"
Saintsbury dropped into an easy chair
and ran his eye casually over the evening
paper. Then came parenthetical smoke,
and he sat down to his desk to write his
letters. A fine, spirited young fellow he
looked, with his clean-cut features, his
well-shaped head, his soft, dark hair and
his bright, clear'eyes.
Saintsbury's two letters were as disslmi-
lar as it is possible to imagine. One was
merely a note to Edith Crawford asking
her to 60 with him to see "Cyrano de
Bergerac'' the latter part of the week
Yet how fondly he wrote it. He began
the note Dear Edith," writing the words
with caress, and he sat admiring his own
rashness, though he knew he was merely
writing for his own edifcation and that
the aristocratic Miss Crawford would never
see what he had there written. He scrib
bled the name all over the page and then
with a sigh, laid the sheet aside and be-
gan to write the formal note which he al
ways sent to Miss Crawford. Saintsbury
was so deeply in love with this lady that
it actually scared him. She was so stately,
so inaccessibly beautiful, that it almost
seemed to him blasphemy that he should
dare to love her. He had tried times
without number to tell her, but had al
ways failed. For what right had mortal
man to make love to one of the saints?
And so things had drifted along, and
Saintsbury had lived in a sort of divine de-
spair for more than a year.
The second letter which he had to write
was for "a friend who was in love and
wished to send beautiful letter announc-
ing this fact to the woman he adored, but
did not know how to do it. 'Write me a
letter, john" said Dick, "as if you were
writing to your own girl" John endeav.
ored to follow out these Instructions He
did not know the name of Dicks sweet.
heart, and in order to do his best he ad.
dressed the letter to Edith Crawford, in
tending to leave her name out when he
copied the letter. He found it easy to
write under these circumstances, and when
it was concluded he read it over and
glowed with the beauty of it. He could
find no fault with it, and he felt that he
could not improve upon it by rewriting it.
So what was the use of rewriting it? Dick
had to copy it anyway in his own nervy
hand. So he took out couple of en-
velopes and addressed them and enclosed
the letters, having forgotten all about
leaving Edith CrawforHs name in his
friends letter.
The next day at the bank he was rung
up by his friend Daniels. "I say" said
Dick over the telephone, |you didn't know
that you sent me a letter addressed to a
friend of yours, did you? What's up, any
way, old boy?"
John remembered then that he had for
gotten to erase Miss Crawford's name, and
he blushed through the phone as he re-
piled: "Oh, that's all right. just scratch
her name out, and I think it will do"
"You haven't given yourself away
a~plenty, have you?" said Dick.
<<Go away, Dick: can't jabber with you
during banking hours
"All right; but you'd better straighten
this thing out soon," replied Dick, with
chuckle. as he rang off.
Saintsbury was really annoyed, that he
should have left Miss Crawford's name
standing in his friends letter. It was so
thought,ess and indelicate in him. And as
he worried over the matter a new idea
came to him. Could it be that he had
swapped the letters and sent Edith's to
Dick, and Dicks to Edith? The idea was
quite amusing until he remembered that
Edith's name was in the beautiful love
letter. It was impossible that he could
have made such a mistake, but he was
vaguely uneasy about it, and that evening
he hastened to Miss Crawford's to set the
matter at rest.
He found her in the drawing-room alone
and looking pensively into the fire. How
beautiful, howbtender, how dainty she was
in the freight glow! He entered the room
nervousIy and confused. She arose to greet
him, and he observed slight flush upon
her cheeks and a touch of uncertainty in
her manner He shook both her hands
without saying anything. She seemed a
trife surprised and a silence fell between
them.
He broke in awkwardly: "Did you get a
letter%from me?"
.ttttYes," she answered with adorable soft
ness:
ffWell did Ibid you-can you tell me
what I wrote-I mean did say"
"I do not understand you, Mr.. Saints.
bury" said Miss Crawford, rather dis
family.
"Pardon me, but mean, did ask you
in the letter you received whether you
cared"
els it possible you do not remember what
you wrote me?" she inquired with beautiful
iciness
"Why, of course; but I fear there has
been some mistake"
Miss Crawford was not only amazed, but
she was apparently quite angry. As for
him, he was in an agony of doubt, Which
letter had she received? If he only knew
he felt that he could act. If she had re-
ceived the love letter, he would have been
delighted to let it go at that. At any rate,
he knew that his time had come to speak,
: and with this conviction came resolution
and freedom from embarrassment.
"Pardon my awkwardness," he said, with
q smile Hand 7 will oYn1ain Tast nirht I