25 May.

My dear Art,
We've told yarns by the campfire in the prairies. We have cared for one another's wounds after trying a landing at the Marquesas. We have drunk healths at the shore of Lake Titicaca. Now there are more yarns to be told, other wounds to be healed, and another health to be drunk. Won't you let this be at my home tomorrow night? I have no hesitation in asking you, as I know a certain lady is going to be at a certain dinner party, and that you are free for the evening.

There will only be one other person present. Our old pal Jack Seward is coming too. We both want to cry into our wine cups, and to drink a health with all our hearts to the happiest man in all the wide world. That's the man who has won the noblest heart that God has made, and the heart best worth winning. We promise you a hearty welcome, and a warm greeting, and a health as true as your own right hand. We both swear we will leave you at home if you drink too deep to a certain pair of eyes. Come!

Yours, as ever and always,

Quincey P. Morris