know from my telling
you my theory of life.

Well, a letter is no place for deep discussions, so I will not go into
the subject. From several letters from my mother, and one from Aunt
Fanny, I hear you are seeing a good deal of the family since I left.
I hope sometimes you think of the member who is absent. I got a silver
frame for your photograph in New York, and I keep it on my desk. It
is the only girl's photograph I ever took the trouble to have framed,
though, as I told you frankly, I have had any number of other girls'
photographs, yet all were only passing fancies, and oftentimes I have
questioned in years past if I was capable of much friendship toward the
feminine sex, which I usually found shallow until our own friendship
began. When I look at your photograph, I say to myself, "At last, at
last here is one that will not prove shallow."

My faithful briar has gone out. I will have to rise and fill it, then
once more in the fragrance of My Lady Nicotine, I will sit and dream the
old dreams over, and think, too, of the true friend at home awaiting my
return in June for the summer vacation.

Friend, this is from your friend,
G.A.M.

George's anticipations were not disappointed. When he came home in June
his friend was awaiting him; at least, she was so pleased to see him
again that for a few minutes after their first encounter she was a
little breathless, and a great deal glowing, and quiet withal. Their
sentimental friendship continued, though sometimes he was irritated by
her making it less sentimental than he did, and sometimes by what he
called her "air of superiority." Her air was usually, in truth, that
of a fond but amused older sister; and George did not believe such an
attitude was warranted by her eight months of seniority.

Lucy and her father were living at the Amberson Hotel, while Morgan got
his small machine-shops built in a western outskirt of the town; and
George grumbled about the shabbiness and the old-fashioned look of
the hotel, though it was "still the best in the place, of course." He
remonstrated with his grandfather, declaring that the whole Amberson
Estate would be getting "run-down and out-at-heel, if things weren't
taken in hand pretty soon." He urged the general need of rebuilding,
renovating, varnishing, and lawsuits. But the Major, declining to hear
him out, interrupted querulously, saying that he had enough to bother