I’ve been negligent in writing, and I realize my last letter was only about me. I should have asked about Everett, for now you have surprised me – engaged, Kate! I cannot believe you didn’t tell me that you’ve been so much in love with him and his tennis arm for all these years. A thousand reproaches, and a thousand hugs. I have a lovely tennis arm if I do say so myself, so would you come and marry me instead?
I don’t mean to make fun, it’s only that you are so firmly rooted in York. And I am going to miss you very much, so much so that I was about to make a harebrained proposition, and it should have been very awkward to have you refuse.
Pray, when is the wedding? You say a steady, long engagement, and I hope it will be long, because if it is not then I may not be able to come to your wedding. Oh I sound rotten, even though I am very, very happy for you, but I am distracted and frantic. I am about to leave for New Britain. It is so bewildering to be packing, and I have gotten so unsteady, that I was about to ask you to come with me.
I had the childish notion that if we went together it would be like our games in the garret, only in fields and mountains instead. But I see that even if you had not just become engaged it would have been wrong of me to ask. Your life is not in the new country!
Please tell me in wild, exaggerated detail about all your plans for the future, all your plans for a dress, and most especially about all the sweet things that your Everett has done for you.
I shall think of you two as I pack. Kate, you will look beautiful with orange blossoms in your hair.