"And you do not find this letter," said I, "affect the conclusion which
you have just told me you have come to concerning your present plans?"
He smiled, and answered: "No. But if you do what you have sometimes
talked about and turn the adventures of my unworthy self into a novel,
mind you print this letter."
"Why so?" said I, feeling as though such a letter as this should have
been held sacred from the public gaze.
"Because my mother would have wished it published; if she had known you
were writing about me and had this letter in your possession, she would
above all things have desired that you should publish it. Therefore
publish it if you write at all."
This is why I have done so.
Within a month Ernest carried his intention into effect, and having made
all the arrangements necessary for his children's welfare left England
before Christmas.
I heard from him now and again and learnt that he was visiting almost all
parts of the world, but only staying in those places where he found the
inhabitants unusually good-looking and agreeable. He said he had filled
an immense quantity of note-books, and I have no doubt he had. At last
in the spring of 1867 he returned, his luggage stained with the variation
of each hotel advertisement 'twixt here and Japan.
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