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 dream, and take courage and tell myself I am something to you—something in your life, and that to me, Gabriel Stanton, has come at last the chance of helping, tending, caring for against all the world if need be, such a woman as Margaret Capel.

Let me revel in this new strange happiness. You are too kind, too generous to destroy it! For it is all strange and marvellous to me—I've lived so much alone—have missed so much by circumstance and the fault of what you call my "aggressive humility." I can help you! As I write I feel I want nothing else in life. Oh! my wonderful friend, don't let us miss a relationship which on my part I swear to you shall be consecrated to your service, to your happiness in any and every way you decide or will ask. Let me come into your life, give me the chance of healing those wounds which have bruised you grievously, but can never conquer your brave spirit. You must let me help.

You have gone away, but your dear letter is with me—it is so much your letter—so much you that I am not even lonely any more. And yet I long to see you—hear you talk, be near you. Thoughts—hopes—ideas, crowd upon me tonight, things to tell you It is like having a new sense—I've wakened up in a new and so beautiful country. Do you wish for those weeks of solitude? Only what you wish matters. But I confess I've looked up the trains to Pineland. I will come on any day at any moment you say. There is no duty that could keep me should you say "come." Give me at least one chance of seeing you in your new home. Then I will keep away and respect your solitude if you wish it.