Pretty soon spring will come.

Then, you wild-flower of the hills, you girl with the sweet mouth and the sad eyes--then I'm coming after you! And all the king's horses and all the king's men can never take you away from me again! "Your faithful "WILSON." "March 19th.
"DEAREST WILSON,--Your last letters have been read and reread, and kept under my pillow, and have been both my help and my weakness during these trying days since Jack's return.
"It has not been that I was afraid to write--though, Heaven knows, if this letter should fall into the hands of dad it would mean trouble for me, and if Jack read it--I _am_ afraid to think of that! I just have not had the heart to write you.

But all the time I knew I must write and that I would.

Only, now, what to say tortures me.

I am certain that confiding in you relieves me.