“‘I cannot,’ the letter continued, ‘express the gratitude I feel toward Mr. Rockland for his kindness to my nephew and niece. I own a large interest in a very rich mine here, and if I can sell it for what I think it is worth, I shall soon be ready to make my home permanently in Memphis. You will present to Mr. Rockland my warmest thanks; and tell my charming niece that I am looking forward with anxiety to the time when I shall hold her in my old arms. “‘Yours most truly, “‘OLIVER STANLEY.’ “‘Ah! Harry, what a lucky fellow you are!’ “‘Does not the good luck strike you, too? Doesn’t Lottie get half? And don’t you get Lottie, and her money, too?’ “‘Oh, bother the money! my Lottie is worth a hundred thousand such gold mines!’ “‘Yes, but in my case, you see, it is different; I don’t care so much for the money, you know, but it makes honors easy between Viola and me.’ “‘Very good; now, go on and tell me how you succeeded with Viola.’ “‘I shall do so cheerfully; because I like to talk with you about such things, for you are in a condition to appreciate my narrative. Well, you see, when Lottie put Viola and me to winding thread, it afforded a topic of conversation; that was very thoughtful in Lottie, wasn’t it?’ “‘I think it was; but go on with your story.’ “‘You see when the thread would get tangled we had to help each other fix it.’ “‘“Run the ball through here, Mr. Wallingford,” said Viola, “no, not that way, but the other--just here between my hands; there, that’s right; no, I beg pardon, it was all my fault, for you were doing it right before I spoke; you’ll have to run the ball back the same way between my hands.” “‘Now, Ed, you must understand that while all this was going on I was not looking at the hank of thread, but was gazing intently at the beautiful darling before me. As a natural result, instead of untangling the thread, we kept making it worse. I shall hereafter recommend all bashful young people to wind yarn when they wish to make love--there’s nothing equal to it, as an entering-wedge to conversation. “‘“Stop, Viola,” said I, as I took hold of her little hand, “you have got this thread in a desperate fix; let me hold this end on your wrist while you untangle the other.” “‘This gave me an excuse to hold her hand, which I assure you I did. “‘“How pale your hand looks, Viola!” I said, as I let the hank fall, and took her hand with both of mine. “‘“Yes, my hand is pale, I believe.” “‘“You have a very small hand, too.” “‘“Yes, I believe it is quite small; but we had better finish the work that Lottie gave us to do.” “‘“No, let us talk a while; we’ll have plenty of time to do the work. I think this is quite a pretty little hand.” “‘“Do you?” “‘“Yes, indeed I do; and I think the owner of this hand is very pretty, too.” “‘“I declare, we must finish this thread!”