sion? I don't
believe that I shall recover for months from the bewildering effect of
two days of it. I can't begin to tell you all the amazing things I've
seen; I suppose you know, though, since you live there yourself.

But aren't the streets entertaining? And the people? And the shops?
I never saw such lovely things as there are in the windows. It makes
you want to devote your life to wearing clothes.

Sallie and Julia and I went shopping together Saturday morning. Julia
went into the very most gorgeous place I ever saw, white and gold walls
and blue carpets and blue silk curtains and gilt chairs. A perfectly
beautiful lady with yellow hair and a long black silk trailing gown
came to meet us with a welcoming smile. I thought we were paying a
social call, and started to shake hands, but it seems we were only
buying hats--at least Julia was. She sat down in front of a mirror and
tried on a dozen, each lovelier than the last, and bought the two
loveliest of all.

I can't imagine any joy in life greater than sitting down in front of a
mirror and buying any hat you choose without having first to consider
the price! There's no doubt about it, Daddy; New York would rapidly
undermine this fine stoical character which the John Grier Home so
patiently built up.

And after we'd finished our shopping, we met Master Jervie at Sherry's.
I suppose you've been in Sherry's? Picture that, then picture the
dining-room of the John Grier Home with its oilcloth-covered tables,
and white crockery that you CAN'T break, and wooden-handled knives and
forks; and fancy the way I felt!

I ate my fish with the wrong fork, but the waiter very kindly gave me
another so that nobody noticed.

And after luncheon we went to the theatre--it was dazzling, marvellous,
unbelievable--I dream about it every night.

Isn't Shakespeare wonderful?

Hamlet is so much better on the stage than when we analyze it in class;
I appreciated it before, but now, clear me!

I think, if you don't mind, that I'd rather be an actress than a
writer. Wouldn't you like me to leave college and go into a dramatic
school? And then I'll send you a box for all my performances, and
smile at you across the footlights. Only wear a red rose in your
buttonhole, please, so I'll surely smile at the right man. It would be
an awfully embarrassing mistake if I picked out the wrong one.

We came back Saturday night and had our dinner in the train, at little
tables with