Daddy Long Legs

Affectionately,

Judy

PS. I've just had an awful thought. Have you a butler? I'm afraid of

butlers, and if one opens the door I shall faint upon the step. What

can I say to him? You didn't tell me your name. Shall I ask for Mr.

Smith?

Thursday Morning

My Very Dearest Master-Jervie-Daddy-Long-Legs Pendleton-Smith,

Did you sleep last night? I didn't. Not a single wink. I was too

amazed and excited and bewildered and happy. I don't believe I ever

shall sleep again--or eat either. But I hope you slept; you must, you

know, because then you will get well faster and can come to me.

Dear Man, I can't bear to think how ill you've been--and all the time I

never knew it. When the doctor came down yesterday to put me in the

cab, he told me that for three days they gave you up. Oh, dearest, if

that had happened, the light would have gone out of the world for me.

I suppose that some day in the far future--one of us must leave the

other; but at least we shall have had our happiness and there will be

memories to live with.

I meant to cheer you up--and instead I have to cheer myself. For in

spite of being happier than I ever dreamed I could be, I'm also

soberer. The fear that something may happen rests like a shadow on my

heart. Always before I could be frivolous and care-free and

unconcerned, because I had nothing precious to lose. But now--I shall

have a Great Big Worry all the rest of my life. Whenever you are away

from me I shall be thinking of all the automobiles that can run over

you, or the sign-boards that can fall on your head, or the dreadful,

squirmy germs that you may be swallowing. My peace of mind is gone for

ever--but anyway, I never cared much for just plain peace.

Please get well--fast--fast--fast. I want to have you close by where I

can touch you and make sure you are tangible. Such a little half hour

we had together! I'm afraid maybe I dreamed it. If I were only a

member of your family (a very distant fourth cousin) then I could come

and visit you every day, and read aloud and plump up your pillow and

smooth out those two little wrinkles in your forehead and make the

corners of your mouth turn up in a nice cheerful smile. But you are

cheerful again, aren't you? You were yesterday before I left. The

doctor said I must be a good nurse, that you looked ten years younger.

I hope that being in love doesn't make every one ten years younger.

Will you still care for me, darling, if I turn out to be only eleven?