To my dearest Leslie,
This morning I woke up to a day just like any other day. The breeze was touching my skin, and it was cold summer. Silly, isn’t it? The hot tea warms up my stomach, but I still had that tickling from last supper.
I took my breakfast, then went for a walk around the garden. The roses look most beautiful today, like never before. So I sat near them alone, and I think of you.
Do you still remember my butler, Mr. John? Yes. He asked for you. He worried for your well-being in Somme. I wonder if he thinks very highly of you.. But of course, he does. You are a fine charming gentleman around here. Talk about your luck, my dear.
I don’t know how to express this properly, but I hope you can feel this, my dear. Last night, I prayed for you. I know I am not in the best condition with Him, but if I ever done anything good in my life, even once, I pray for Him to keep you safe.
Hold me dearly in your memories. Even when times are changing, and I will soon be married in fall; I am truly and faithfully yours. If ever you’re in the verge of death, remember that I must go first. For I will not survive living without hope.
Take care, Leslie. Hope will always be within me, and you must too.
Remember me, always.
Jane
viramundo 