Romance of California Life by John Habberton
page 120 of 561 (21%)
page 120 of 561 (21%)
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puzzled wonder.
"Fred," said he to the miserable lieutenant, who started to his feet as a prisoner expecting a severe sentence might do, "what in creation did you write Mrs. Wittleday?" "Just what you gave me to write," replied the young man, evidently astonished. "Let me see my draft of it," said the major. The lieutenant opened a drawer in the major's desk, took out a sheet of paper, looked at it, and cried: "I sent her your draft! _This_ is my letter!" "And she imagined _I_ wrote it, and has accepted _me_!" gasped the major. The wretched Frederick turned pale, and tottered toward a chair. The major went over to him and spoke to him sympathizingly, but despite his genial sorrow for the poor boy, the major's heart was so full that he did not dare to show his face for a moment; so he stood behind the lieutenant, and looked across his own shoulder out of the window. "Oh, major," exclaimed Fred, "isn't it possible that you're mistaken?" "Here's her letter, my boy," said the major; "judge for yourself." The young man took the letter in a mechanical sort of way, and read as |
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