Thurston Henry Howell sat triumphantly in his office at the back of his small hay and feed store in Kansas City, Missouri. He had just dispatched two letters: one to his fiancée, Ms. Willie Arnold; the other to his lover, Mr. Arnold William. The first was a letter gently ending his relationship with Ms. Arnold, the latter was a letter agreeing to abscond with Mr. William to points elsewhere. Such a relationship as theirs wouldn’t be possible in Kansas City, but if the newspapers were to be believed, relationships like theirs were not only tolerated, but de rigueur in cities like Boston, San Francisco or New Orleans. It was 1910, the Victorian broadcloth had started to fray in such places and Thurston was ready to join the march into modernism.

He’d dispatched the letters by hired courier an hour hence. He was fortunate that Mr. Williams resided across the street from Ms. Arnold, so the courier wouldn’t have all that far to go.

What misfortune he hadn’t accounted for was the confusion that his envelope addressing had caused the barely literate courier (the courier, after all, was only twelve years old; forced to sacrifice school for a career as a foot messenger). The courier stopped at Ms. Arnold’s residence first. She saw the envelope addressed to Arnold William and believed it to be addressed “Arnold, Willie” and so took the letter meant for Mr. William. Mr. William, in turn, received a letter from his beloved Thurston which read:

“My Darling,

You cannot know the machinations of my heart which lead me to seek other partners and lead me, perforce, to end our relations. You will always have a space in my heart, though it be not in the compartment you would have occupied.

My kindest sympathies,

T. Henry Howell”

This abrupt and unexplained end to their clandestine affair hurt and confused Arnold William. The wounded lover stormed from his rooming house to a saloon, where he intended to imbibe himself beyond the point of feeling.

Ms. Arnold however, received a beautiful epistle outlining a supposed deep love and commitment to her from her fiancée, as well as the exciting prospect of life in a far off city. So enthralled and entranced was Ms. Willie Arnold, she raced to meet her fiancée.

You can imagine the shock that shook Thurston Henry Howell when he met the woman he assumed he’d ended things with meet him outside his hay and feed store in traveling clothes and valises.

Ms. Arnold thrust her arms around Thurston and gently kissed him. “My darling! Oh my darling! Yes, yes, a million times yes! I’d travel the ends of the earth with you my darling!”

When Thurston inquired whether she had received his missive, Ms. Arnold triumphantly presented the ill delivered letter to Thurston. Understanding there’d been a misunderstanding, Thurston said he’d been rash and that recent introspection had caused him to change his mind. Perhaps they’d move in a year or two after they were properly married, but for that night he wanted to get some affairs of business in order and he’d meet Ms. Arnold sometime tomorrow. He then hired them both a cab, walked Ms. Arnold to her door, bade her good night, then raced across the street to the room which was Arnold William’s.

Thurston found it empty. And would find the room empty everyday thence forth. The countless letters of explanation he’d send to Arnold would be returned, unanswered. Mr. Arnold William never sent any correspondence to Thurston Henry Howell again, not even to congratulate him and Mrs. Howell on their nuptials a month after he’d left for the saloon. Mr. Arnold William was never heard from again.