Page:Chandler Harris--The chronicles of Aunt Minervy Ann.djvu/285

 she tell you about a letter Mary Ellen wrote me when"—the colonel paused and cleared his throat—"about a letter Mary Ellen wrote me in the seventies?"

"She did," I replied.

"Well, here's the letter," he said, after fumbling in his big pocketbook. "It's not a matter to be showing around, but you seem almost like one of the family, and you'll know better how to appreciate the pictures when you read that."

He turned and went out of the room into the hallway and then to the veranda, where I heard his firm and measured step pacing back and forth. The letter was not a very long one, but there was something in it—a vague undertone of loneliness, a muffled cry for sympathy, which, as I knew all the facts of the case, almost took my breath away.

The letter was dated "Boston, September 8th, 1878," and was as follows:

"—Two days ago the home paper came to me bringing the news of the great loss which has come to your household, and to me. I feel most keenly that a letter from me is an unwarranted intrusion, but I must speak out my thoughts to someone. Miss Sallie was almost the only friend I had when she and I were children together—almost the only person that I ever cared for. I loved her while she lived, and I shall cherish her memory to the day of my death.