She and her mother, who was in ill health, were spending the summer with relatives at Portsmouth, New Hampshire.

She wrote of riding and fishing and sailing, but of all that she wrote I think only of these words now: "I meet many good-looking boys here, but none of them are like you.
I wonder if you remember what you said to me that day.

If you want to unsay it, you can do it by letter, you know.

I think that would be the best way to do it.

So don't be afraid of hurting my feelings.