"A great deal. Would you,
Betty, want any one to see such a letter written by yourself?"
"I suppose I could write a letter which I should want but one person in
all the world to see," returned Betty, arching her eyebrows.
"To whom would it be directed, Betty?" I asked, to tease her.
A faint expression of reproach came to her eyes, but after a moment of
pretty hesitancy, she answered boldly:--
"Since you are so unwise as to ask, I'll answer in like folly. The letter
could be directed to but one person in the world--you."
I had received more than I had expected, and though I longed to make a
suitable return, I dared not for the sake of my vows, so we all remained
silent, and somewhat embarrassed, for a minute or two.
Turning to Frances, I said: "If you don't want me to read your letter,
I'll give you the key, and you may make it into cipher." But after
examining the key, she declared that she could never learn to use it, and
I suggested that she write a shorter letter in terms fit for a modest man
to read.
The next day she handed me a shorter letter, saying that she had cut and
pruned it till there was nothing left worth sending, but I assured her
that George would think otherwise.
When I read the letter, my eyes were opened to the fact that there was
more fire in Frances's heart than I had supposed any woman capable of
holding in subjection. But that is a mistake often made by men.
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