THE JOHN GRIER HOME,
Thursday.
Dear Enemy:
You see, I'm feeling very friendly toward you this moment. When I call
you "MacRae" I don't like you, and when I call you "Enemy" I do.
Sadie Kate delivered your note (as an afterthought). And it's a very
creditable production for a left-handed man; I thought at first glance
it was from Punch.
You may expect me tomorrow at four, and mind you're awake! I'm glad that
you think we're friends. Really, I feel that I've got back something
quite precious which I had carelessly mislaid.
S. McB.
P.S. Java caught cold the night of the fire and he has the toothache. He
sits and holds his cheek like a poor little kiddie.
Thursday, January 29.
Dear Judy:
Those must have been ten terribly incoherent pages I dashed off to you
last week. Did you respect my command to destroy that letter? I should
not care to have it appear in my collected correspondence. I know that
my state of mind is disgraceful, shocking, scandalous, but one really
can't help the way one feels. It is usually considered a pleasant
sensation to be engaged, but, oh, it is nothing compared with the
wonderful untrammeled, joyous, free sensation of being unengaged! I have
had a terribly unstable feeling these last few months, and now at last
I am settled. No one ever looked forward to spinsterhood more thankfully
than I.
Our fire, I have come to believe, was providential. It was sent from
heaven to clear the way for a new John Grier. We are already deep in
plans for cottages. I favor gray stucco, Betsy leans to brick, and
Percy, half-timber. I don't know what our poor doctor would prefer;
olive green with a mansard roof appears to be his taste.
With ten different kitchens to practice in, won't our children learn how
to cook! I am already looking about for ten loving house mothers to put
in charge. I think, in fact, I'll search for eleven, in order to have
one for Sandy. He's as pathetically in need of a little mothering as
any, of the chicks.
It must be pretty dispiriting to come home every night to the
ministrations of Mrs. McGur-rk.
How I do not like that woman! She has with complacent firmness told me
four different times that the dochther was ashleep and not wantin' to be
disturbed. I haven't set eyes on him yet, and I have just about finished
being polite. However, I waive judgment until tomorrow at four, when
I am to pay a short, unexciting call of half an hour. He made the
appointment himself, and if she tells me again that he is ashleep,
I shall give her a gentle push and tip her over (she's very fat and
unstable) and, planting a foot firmly on her stomach, pursue my way
tranquilly in and up. Luellen, formerly chauffeur, chambermaid, and
gardener, is now also trained nurse. I am eager to see how he looks in a
white cap and apron.