nd oh, the retrospect view! It was wonderful, too, crossing by
ferry, and looking back. Albertson's ferry we chose, and one car at a
time rolled sedately on to a flatboat to be rowed to the opposite side
of the river by a very young Charon in a very large straw hat.

We had groves to drive through, and little leafy roads like Surrey
lanes, that looked innocent enough to lead nowhere, but somehow we
managed to skip from valley to valley with a sensation almost of flying;
and if the roads were like Surrey, the colour of the earth--when a bare
place showed in a meadow--was rose-pink as Devon. Goldenrod, not yet in
bloom, might have been planted purposely, in borders, mixed with sumach.
The red barns were bigger and "homier" than those of the day before, and
the little stone farmhouses most inviting. It was quite a shock to find
ourselves suddenly in "Vienna." (What if Jack should be interned!) But
it was a miniature Vienna. Next came Hackettstown, a charming place, and
then the famous Schooley's Mountain, which dropped us down, down into
German Valley. At Morristown we lunched, and afterward went to
Washington's Headquarters, an adorable old yellow house almost as fine
as Kidd's Pines. So by Persippany and Pine Brook to Jersey City and into
New York: beauty and interest of one sort or other all the way, but our
great object not accomplished. Everything worse than ever, and Pat and
Larry each obstinately determined to be sacrificed. Oh, that Caspian
man! I wish I had the formula for becoming a _werewolf_, and I would
devour him!

Your every loving,
MOLLY.

XVI

ANGELE, PATRICIAS MAID, TO THE MARQUISE DE MONCOURT

(_Translation_)

_Kidd's Pines._

I take again the liberty of communicating with Madame la Marquise,
having as always her interests at heart.

Matters develop after a manner somewhat serious since my last letter.
The engagement of this poor charming gentleman to the altogether
undesirable Madame Shuster touches a sharp crisis. I had the highest
hopes that constant association of some days in an automobile might
force a crash, as it was but the spirit of _laissez faire_ and the
pressing need of money which led Monsieur into the ambush, as Madame la
Marquise already knows. I am not carried on these frequent and sudden
excursio