entertaining. He told us of a letter
he received from Guy DuMaurier who wrote "An Englishman's Home" which
has made a sensation second to nothing in ten years. He is an officer
stationed at a small post in South Africa. He wrote Barrie he was at
home, very blue and homesick, and outside it was raining. Then came
Barrie's long cable, at 75 cents a word, saying his play was the
success of the year. He did not know even it had been ACCEPTED. He
shouted to his wife, and they tried to dance but the hut was too small,
so they ran out into the compound and danced in the rain. Then he sent
the Kaffir boys to the mess to bring all the officers and all the
champagne and they did not go to bed at all. The next day cables,
still at three shillings a word came from papers and magazines and
publishers, managers, syndicates. And, in his letter he says, still
not appreciating what a fuss it has made, "I suppose all it needs now
is to be made a question in the House," when already it has been the
text of half a dozen speeches by Cabinet Ministers, and three companies
are playing it in the provinces. What fun to have a success come in
such a way, not even to know it was being rehearsed. Today Sargent is
here to see what is wrong with Cecil's picture of Janet. He came early
and said he couldn't tell until he saw Janet, so now he is back again,
and both Janet and Cecil are shaking with excitement. He is the most
simple, kindly genius I ever met. He says the head is very fine and I
guess Cecil suspected that, before she called him in. He says she must
send it to the Royal Academy. I am now going out to hear more words
fall from the great man, and so farewell. Seymour and I began work
yesterday on the Dictator. It went very smooth. All my love to Noll
and to you.

DICK.

Read the other letter first and then, let me tell you that when I went
out to see Sargent, I found Cecil complaining that she could not
understand just how it was he wanted Janet to pose. Whereat she handed
him a piece of chalk and he made a sketch of Janet as exquisite as the
morning and rubbed his hands of the charcoal and left it there! It's
only worth a hundred pounds! Can you imagine the nerve of Cecil. I
was so shocked I could only gasp. But, he was quite charming and
begged her to call him next time she got in a scrape, and gave her his
private telephone number.

Fancy having Sargent waiting to be called up to make sketches for you.
I left