Thus it ran--I translate:-- "Angel of my dreams! A thousand, thousand thanks for the promise kept: scarcely did I venture to hope its fulfilment.

I believed you, indeed, to be half in jest; and then you seemed to think the enterprise beset with such danger--the hour so untimely, the alley so strictly secluded--often, you said, haunted by that dragon, the English teacher--une veritable begueule Britannique a ce que vous dites--espece de monstre, brusque et rude comme un vieux caporal de grenadiers, et reveche comme une religieuse" (the reader will excuse my modesty in allowing this flattering sketch of my amiable self to retain the slight veil of the original tongue).

"You are aware," went on this precious effusion, "that little Gustave, on account of his illness, has been removed to a master's chamber--that favoured chamber, whose lattice overlooks your prison-ground.

There, I, the best uncle in the world, am admitted to visit him.

How tremblingly I approached the window and glanced into your Eden--an Eden for me, though a desert for you!--how I feared to behold vacancy, or the dragon aforesaid! How my heart palpitated with delight when, through apertures in the envious boughs, I at once caught the gleam of your graceful straw-hat, and the waving of your grey dress--dress that I should recognise amongst a thousand.
But why, my angel, will you not look up?
Cruel, to deny me one ray of those adorable eyes!--how a single glance would have revived me! I write this in fiery haste; while the physician examines Gustave, I snatch an opportunity to enclose it in a small casket, together with a bouquet of flowers, the sweetest that blow--yet less sweet than thee, my Peri--my all-charming! ever thine-thou well knowest whom!" "I wish I did know whom," was my comment; and the wish bore even closer reference to the person addressed in this choice document, than to the writer thereof.