d three months with you.

As ever,

SALLIE.

Friday.

Dear Enemy:

It's very forgiving of me to invite you to dinner after that volcanic
explosion of last week. However, please come. You remember our
philanthropic friend, Mr. Hallock, who sent us the peanuts and goldfish
and other indigestible trifles? He will be with us tonight, so this is
your chance to turn the stream of his benevolence into more hygienic
channels.

We dine at seven.

As ever,

SALLIE McBRIDE.

Dear Enemy:

You should have lived in the days when each man inhabited a separate
cave on a separate mountain.

S. McBRIDE.

Friday, 6:30.

Dear Judy:

Gordon is here, and a reformed man so far as his attitude toward my
asylum goes. He has discovered the world-old truth that the way to a
mother's heart is through praise of her children, and he had nothing but
praise for all 107 of mine. Even in the case of Loretta Higgins he found
something pleasant to say. He thinks it nice that she isn't cross-eyed.

He went shopping with me in the village this afternoon, and was very
helpful about picking out hair-ribbons for a couple of dozen little
girls. He begged to choose Sadie Kate's himself, and after many
hesitations he hit upon orange satin for one braid and emerald green for
the other.

While we were immersed in this business I became aware of a neighboring
customer, ostensibly engaged with hooks and eyes, but straining every
ear to listen to our nonsense.

She was so dressed up in a picture hat, a spotted veil, a feather boa,
and a NOUVEAU ART parasol that I never dreamed she was any acquaintance
of mine till I happened to catch her eye with a familiar malicious gleam
in it. She bowed stiffly, and disapprovingly; and I nodded back. Mrs.
Maggie McGurk in her company clothes!

That is a pleasanter expression than she really has. Her smile is due to
a slip of the pen.

Poor Mrs. McGurk can't understand any possible intellectual interest in
a man. She suspects me of wanting to marry every single one that I meet.
At first she thought I wanted to snatch away her doctor; but now, after
seeing me with Gordon, she considers me a bigamous monster who wants
them both.

Good-by; some guests approach.

11:30 P.M.

I have just been giving a dinner for Gordon, with Betsy and Mrs.
Livermore and Mr. Witherspoon as guests. I graciously included the
doctor, but he curtly declined on the ground that he wasn't in a social
mood. Our Sandy