Accompanying this playful but deeply earnest little strain—_doubly_ earnest, as coming from Ida to Florence—was an explanatory letter. Ida Hamilton wrote thus: “It must, doubtless, seem very bewildering to you, Florence, that I should have taken the liberty of addressing a Valentine to one between whom and myself there has not hitherto existed an intimacy sufficiently familiar to warrant the presumption. But when, in excuse for my boldness, I plead my sincere wish for a nearer intimacy, my earnest desire to call you by the holy and tender name of _friend_—you will forgive me, will you not, _dear_ Florence? “For the past three years, dearest Florence, your image has haunted and troubled me—haunted me, because, from the moment of our first meeting, I have felt my heart irresistibly drawn toward you—troubled me, because the belief of others, and their oft-repeated assurance that you were totally destitute of warmth of character, could not consequently be aught but a source of pain. For this I must also crave your forgiveness, for I know now that in having for a time given credence to such assertions, I did you a grievous wrong. “For the last few months I have watched you closely, Florence, though you little dreamed yourself the object of my scrutiny. I have ascertained that you are not the statue-like being you have been represented, and, indeed, appear—that you are in reality ‘Not cold, but pure—not proud, but taught to know That the heart’s treasure is a holy thing.’