Page:Elizabeth Jordan--Tales of the city room.djvu/202

 either among the roses or in the box. The latter she now observed lacked the usual imprint of the florist. There was absolutely nothing on it to show whence or from whom it had come. The note was still unopened, and to this she turned. A thick sheet of creamy paper, typewritten on both sides, fell from the envelope as she cut the edges. It bore neither date nor signature, but the printed words stood out boldly on the white page, and these were clear enough. Miss Bancroft crossed her feet comfortably, leaned back in her chair, and began to read.

",—You do not know me, and I beg that you will make no effort to discover who I am. Excellent reasons forbid my coming to you and telling you what you are to me. There is a barrier between us which nothing can remove, and I can only look from behind it for such glimpses of your face as I may get. To you I can be only a shadow. To me you have been and are the inspiration that has helped me to go steadily on in the way marked out for me. Perhaps it may please you a little to know this, and to realize that there is a human being near you whom your mere existence has made happy. Sometimes