d have been at first, or almost
the only thing. Now there is more, for Mrs. Shuster begged dear Larry to
borrow some money from her the other night, when he had played poker in
the hotel at Boston with some men he met. Larry has such luck at the
games of chance, nearly always, he did not stop to think, "What will
happen if I lose?" He played with all the eager fire that it is his
nature to put into everything he does, and these men were high punters,
as reckless as Larry and much more rich. So it was five thousand dollars
my poor boy had to borrow, and we cannot take the money which our
wonderful Monsieur Moncourt makes for us from Kidd's Pines, because of
the bankruption, if that is the word, and so much always owing to
creditors. It is as if we held out a sieve for our great Marcel to pour
gold dust into, and it nearly all goes before we can touch it.

Naturally I cannot fail Larry when it is in my power to save him, no
matter what the consequences to me. But listen, _ma cherie_!

It is yesterday we came to Bretton Woods, after a drive of the highest
beauty, with famous points of view. I had to see them with Mr. Caspian
at my side--all but the view of Crawford Notch, as it is named, which is
of a surprising splendidness, and where we stopped to get down from our
automobiles and walk about. When that happens--the getting down, I
mean--I often find myself with the Winstons, and Mr. Caspian does not
care much to come where they are. Then, when I am with them, often Mr.
Storm is there, too. So the Crawford Notch was the best as it was the
most beautiful of my moments in the White Mountains till this
afternoon. And now I have come to what I wish to tell.

When we waked in the morning of to-day it was to see rain coming down in
the cataracts. This spoiled our plan of taking some walks and seeing the
golf course, which Captain Winston loves to do. But also, the rain made
it not good to travel. Shut up, one misses the beauty of the ways.
Somehow it arranged itself through the influence of Molly and Jack that
we stay long enough to have a fine day. Not to be with Mr. Caspian too
much, I stayed a good deal in my room. I tried to read a novel I bought
in the hotel--a hotel splendid enough for a big city, though it stands
among wild mountains, so far away from the world it is--Molly says--as
if Diogenes had had his tub enlarged and fitted up by Ritz. But this
novel had a sad ending, I found when I looked ahead, so I could not be