was wrong, and how
cruelly my girlish inexperience had deceived me. A young and innocent
half-portion like me, it appears, is absolutely incapable of suspecting
the true infamy of the dregs of society. You aren't fit to speak to the
likes of me, being at the kindest estimate little more than a blot on
the human race. I tell you this in case you may imagine you're popular
with the Family. You're not.

So I shall have to exercise a good deal of snaky craft in smuggling this
letter through. I'll take it down to the village myself if I can sneak
away. But it's going to be pretty difficult, because for some reason I
seem to be a centre of attraction. Except when I take refuge in my
room, hardly a moment passes without an aunt or an uncle popping out
and having a cosy talk with me. It sometimes seems as though they were
weighing me in the balance. Well, let 'em weigh!

Time to dress for dinner now. Good-bye.

Yours in the balance,

Sally.

P.S.--You were perfectly right about your Uncle Donald's moustache, but
I don't agree with you that it is more his misfortune than his fault. I
think he does it on purpose.

(Just for the moment)
Monk's Crofton,
Much Middleford,
Salop,
England.

April 20th.

Dear Ginger,--Leaving here to-day. In disgrace. Hard, cold looks from
the family. Strained silences. Uncle Donald far from chummy. You can
guess what has happened. I might have seen it coming. I can see now that
it was in the air all along.

Fillmore knows nothing about it. He left just before it happened.
I shall see him very soon, for I have decided to come back and stop
running away from things any longer. It's cowardly to skulk about over
here. Besides, I'm feeling so much better that I believe I can face
the ghosts. Anyway, I'm going to try. See you almost as soon as you get
this.

I shall mail this in London, and I suppose it will come over by the same
boat as me. It's hardly worth writing, really, of course, but I have
sneaked up to my room to wait till the motor arrives to take me to the
station, and it's something to do. I can hear muffled voices. The Family
talking me over, probably. Saying they never really liked me all along.
Oh, well!

Yours moving in an