July 30th, 1888

My Emmeline,

The thirty-first at six sounds exceptional. I'll arrive at your house by then.

I cannot wait to see you and hold you once again. It pains me how we left our last meeting and if there is anything one can regret in life above all else, that would be at the top of the list.

I feel guilty for what happened. And I lost a picnic basket. My mother isn't best pleased about that.

Your love,
Charlie