eemed to
be thirsty all the time. So she got it, and I recovered my SAVOIR FAIR,
and stopped shaking.

I suppose Jane expected to go along, but I refrained from asking her.
She then said:

"Try to remember everything he says, Bab. I am just crazy about it."

Ah, dear Dairy, how can I write how I felt when being led to him. The
entire seen is engraved on my Soul. I, with my very heart in my eyes,
in spite of my eforts to seem cool and collected. He, in front of his
mirror, drawing in the lines of starvation around his mouth for the next
seen, while on his poor feet a valet put the raged shoes of Act II!

He rose when I entered, and took me by the hand.

"Well!" he said. "At last!"

He did not seem to mind the VALET, whom he treated like a chair or
table. And he held my hand and looked deep into my eyes.

Ah, dear Dairy, Men may come and Men may go in my life, but never again
will I know such ecstacy as at that moment.

"Sit down," he said. "Little Lady of the rose--but it's violets today,
isn't it? And so you like the Play?"

I was by that time somwhat calmer, but glad to sit down, owing to my
knees feeling queer.

"I think it is magnifacent," I said.

"I wish there were more like you," he observed. "Just a moment, I have
to make a change here. No need to go out. There's a screan for that very
purpose."

He went behind the screan, and the man handed him a raged shirt over the
top of it, while I sat in a chair and dreamed. What I reflected, would
the School say if it but knew! I felt no remorce. I was there, and
beyond the screan, changing into the garments of penury, was the only
member of the Other Sex I had ever felt I could truly care for.

Dear Dairy, I am tired and my head aches. I cannot write it all. He was
perfectly respectfull, and only his eyes showed his true feelings.
The woman who is the Adventuress in the play came to the Door, but he
motioned her away with a waive of the hand. And at last it was over, and
he was asking me to come again soon, and if I would care to have one of
his pictures.

I am very sleepy tonight, but I cannot close this record of a
w-o-n-d-e-r-f-u-l d-a-y----

JANUARY 24TH. Cold worse.

Not hearing from Carter Brooks I telephoned him just now. He is sore
about Beresford and said he would not come to the house. So I have asked
him to meet me in the Park, and said that there were only to more days,
this being Thursday.

LATER: I have seen Carter, and he has a fi