While under the spell of the letters, as I read them, I saw myself the adored wife of Jerry Weston, and happy ever after.

All the rest of the time I knew myself to be plain Mary Marie Anderson, forever lonely and desolate.
I had been at home exactly eight hours when a telegram from Jerry asked permission to come at once.
As gently as I could I broke the news to Father and Mother.

He was Helen's brother.

They must have heard me mention him, I knew him well, very well, indeed.

In fact, the purpose of this visit was to ask them for the hand of their daughter.
Father frowned and scolded, and said, "Tut, tut!" and that I was nothing but a child.