t. Well, Lulie, instead of
having a dreadful time I enjoyed every minute of it, and yesterday Mrs.
Brindlecombe--Lady Brindlecombe, I suppose she really is--came and took
me to drive. We shopped and had a glorious afternoon. I presume likely
I said "Mercy me" and "Goodness gracious" as often as I usually do and
that they sounded funny to her. But she said "My word" and "Fancy"
and they sounded just as funny to me. And it didn't make a bit of
difference.

There was one thing that came from our dinner at the Brindlecombes'
which I must tell you, because it is so very like this blessed husband
of mine. I happened to speak of Mrs. Brindlecombe's pin, the wonderful
one I just wrote about. The very next day Galusha came trotting in,
bubbling over with mischief and mystery like the boy he is in so many
things, and handed me a jeweler's box. When I opened it there was a
platinum brooch with a diamond in it as big--honestly, Lulie, I believe
it was as big as my thumbnail, or two thirds as big, anyway. This
husband of mine had, so he told me, made up his mind that nobody's wife
should own a more wonderful pin than HIS wife owned. "Because," he
said, "nobody else has such a wonderful wife, you know. Dear me, no. No,
indeed."

Well, I almost cried at first, and then I set about thinking how I could
get him to change the pin and do it without hurting his feelings. As for
wearing it--why, Lulie, I would have looked like the evening train just
coming up to the depot platform. That diamond flashed like the Gould's
Bluffs light. The sight of it would have made Zach Bloomer feel at home.
And when I found out what it cost! My soul and body! Well, I used all
the brains I had and strained them a little, I'm afraid, but at last
I made him understand that perhaps something a tiny bit smaller would
look, when I wore it in the front of my dress, a little less like a
bonfire on a hill and we went back to the jewelry store together. The
upshot of it was that I have a brooch--lots smaller, of course--and a
ring, either of which is far, far too grand for a plain woman like me,
and which I shall wear only on the very stateliest of state occasions
and NEVER, I think, both at the same time, and I saved Galusha a good
many dollars besides.

So, you see, Lulie, that he is the same impractical, absent-minded, dear
little man he was down there in East Wellmouth, even though he is such
a famous scientist and discoverer. I think I got the best salve for