Page:The Mystery of Central Park.djvu/128

122 "You can't imagine how I feel about her. Auntie says I am morbid and depressed. When I go to bed at night and close my eyes I can see her again lying before us, her masses of golden hair, her pretty little hands, her delicate clothes, and I can't go to sleep for wondering whose darling she was and how she came to stray so far away from home and that they never found her.

"I firmly believe she eloped with some rascal who tired of her at last and murdered her to free himself.

"When will you solve this unhappy mystery?

"Your short, unsatisfactory letters, I have felt all along, were a mere blind to keep me from suspecting the surprising story you have in reserve for me.

"If you have been wasting your time in being devoted to some of the many girls who used to attract your attention, and neglecting