of The Pines and the house across the road. How cool it must be
down there! I long for the salt smell in the air. I picture the
colonel smoking his cheroot on the piazza. I send you and Miss Daw
off on afternoon rambles along the beach. Sometimes I let you
stroll with her under the elms in the moonlight, for you are great
friends by this time, I take it, and see each other every day. I
know your ways and your manners! Then I fall into a truculent
mood, and would like to destroy somebody. Have you noticed anything
in the shape of a lover hanging around the colonel Lares and
Penates? Does that lieutenant of the horse-marines or that young
Stillwater parson visit the house much? Not that I am pining for
news of them, but any gossip of the kind would be in order. I
wonder, Ned, you don't fall in love with Miss Daw. I am ripe to do
it myself. Speaking of photographs, couldn't you manage to slip
one of her cartes-de-visite from her album--she must have an album,
you know--and send it to me? I will return it before it could be
missed. That's a good fellow! Did the mare arrive safe and sound?
It will be a capital animal this autumn for Central Park.

Oh--my leg? I forgot about my leg. It's better.


VII.

EDWARD DELANEY TO JOHN FLEMMIMG.

August 20, 1872.

You are correct in your surmises. I am on the most friendly terms
with our neighbors. The colonel and my father smoke their afternoon