All
their faults are the faults of youth, as I said before; and everyone
will admit youth is a gift of the gods.
Now, good-night, dearest Mamma.
Fond love to all,
From your affectionate daughter,
ELIZABETH.
_Morning_.
P.S.--The Senator's mail caught us up at the only station we passed, and
in the packets of letters for everyone was another from Jane Roose for
me saying more odious insinuations about Mrs. Smith and Harry. I feel
perfectly sick, Mamma, and I shan't be good any more. I will never speak
to him again, and shall just divorce him, become a naturalized American
and marry some lovely millionaire.
_Osages again_.
DEAREST MAMMA,--I am so fearfully excited I can hardly write. Listen! We
got back here late in the afternoon, as we stopped at a place by the way
where the Senator had business, and while I was up in my room dressing
for dinner, in the worst temper I ever remember, still feeling so
furious over Jane Roose's words, a noise of quick footsteps was heard in
the passage, and without even a knock someone tried the door, which was
naturally locked. Agnes in fear and trembling went to it, as from the
tale of the night at Moonbeams, she thought, I suppose, it was another
desperado.
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