The letter
was short--at least when compared with Cope's own plentiful pennings; but
it gave our young instructor a few points to think about while he was
illuminating Clarissa Harlowe and making some careful comments on Joseph
Andrews. Released toward noon, he read the letter over again; and he ran
over it again during lunch. Lemoyne possessed a variety of gifts, but the
gift of letter-writing, in an extended form, was not among them. He said
all he had to say in four moderate pages.
"Yours received," he wrote. "Am glad the year has opened up so
interestingly for you. Of course I want to come down as soon as I can,
_if_ I can, and be with you."
Well, the "if," as the latter part of the letter indicated, was not likely
to prove insurmountable. The assurance that he wanted to come was grateful,
though superfluous: who had supposed for a moment that he didn't? Still,
the thing, put down in plain black and white, had its look of comfort.
"Of course the business is not gaining much through my connection with it.
I expect father begins to see _that_, pretty plainly. As for the
cathedral choir and the dramatic club and all the rest, I am willing to
throw them over--expecting that larger interests can be opened to me by
you.
Pages:
106
107
108
109
110
111
112
113
114
115
116
117
118
119
120
121
122
123
124
125
126
127
128
129
130