Richard Forrest, Bachelor — page 116: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

THE RESCUE. 107 one object he so coveted, and which would alone bring him contentment? He was young, rich, and as agreeable as the generality of his acquaintances, he thought. He would de- vote his life—which, so far, had been remarkably decent. as men’s lives go—to Gertrude, were she his wife. But what good did all this ruminating do, since she said no? How- ever, if she was unable to return his affection he was thankful she had refused him; so many women would have acted otherwise considering all he had to offer froma worldly point of view—the only one most women take. There was no mistake about it, it certainly was a strange, unsatisfactory sort of world. And he drew the whip sharply over Pluto’s glossy back, much to that animal’s surprise, for he had merely wished to show his excellent spirits by shying a little at a bit of paper in the middle of the street. The next morning about eight o’clock, as he was taking his coffee and eggs in his dressing-room, Peters, his valet, handed him his mail. He slowly drained his cup, buttered himself another slice of toast, and then turned the letters over listlessly with his knife. There were half a dozen in all—a club notice, two bills, an advertisement, a long letter from a slight ac- quaintance, begging for a short loan, and a note directed in a hand the sight of which made his heart beat faster. Amazement and delight held him motionless for a sec- ond, and then he hastily broke the seal. <A faint odor of violets arose from the paper. ‘‘Dear Mr. Eldridge,’’ he read, breathlessly. ‘I think in my excitement to-day I failed to thank you properly for the kind assistance you rendered Bebee and myself, Will EOMME OOO KSAEO