_There is nothing that is wrong, everything has its place. If I had
known earlier that my dear friend, Cibulka, had asked for your
hand, I should not have made a like venture. But he said nothing to
me, and, therefore, I knew nothing. I have already told him
everything, and I retire because he is so fond of you. I beg you
not to laugh at me. That would not be kind; in addition I can look
for happiness elsewhere. It is too bad, but that doesn’t make any
difference._
_Please forget that I am your devoted_
JOHN RECHNER, _Engraver_.
“Now you are out of the puddle,” affirmed Mrs. Nocar. “God be praised!”
Miss Mary was alone, but today solitude was so sweet. Her thoughts flew
to the future, and they were so alluring, that she went over them again
and again. Gradually her thoughts achieved a certain plasticity; they
wove themselves into unity, and they represented a beautiful life.
The next day Mrs. Nocar found her friend ill. She lay upon the sofa, her
face was white, her eyes were blurred and red. The friend was so
startled she was hardly in condition to inquire the cause. Tears filled
Miss Mary’s eyes, then she pointed to the table. Upon the table lay
another letter. Mrs. Nocar had foreboding of something amiss. The letter
was indeed serious enough.