Thank Jervis for his letter. He's a dear man, and I'm glad to see him
getting his deserts. What fun we are going to have when you get back to
Shadywell, and we lay our plans for a new John Grier! I feel as though I
had spent this past year learning, and am now just ready to begin. We'll
turn this into the nicest orphan asylum that ever lived. I'm so absurdly
happy at the prospect that I start in the morning with a spring, and go
about my various businesses singing inside.
The John Grier Home sends its blessing to the two best friends it ever
had!
ADDIO!
SALLIE.
THE JOHN GRIER HOME,
Saturday at half-past six in the morning!
My dearest Enemy:
"Some day soon something nice is going to happen."
Weren't you surprised when you woke up this morning and remembered the
truth? I was! I couldn't think for about two minutes what made me so
happy.
It's not light yet, but I'm wide awake and excited and having to write
to you. I shall despatch this note by the first to-be-trusted little
orphan who appears, and it will go up on your breakfast tray along with
your oatmeal.
I shall follow VERY PROMPTLY at four o'clock this afternoon. Do you
think Mrs. McGurk will ever countenance the scandal if I stay two hours,
and no orphan for a chaperon?
It was in all good faith, Sandy, that I promised not to kiss your hand
or drip tears on the counterpane, but I'm afraid I did both--or worse!
Positively, I didn't suspect how much I cared for you till I crossed the
threshold and saw you propped up against the pillows, all covered with
bandages, and your hair singed off. You are a sight! If I love you now,
when fully one third of you is plaster of Paris and surgical dressing,
you can imagine how I'm going to love you when it's all you!
But my dear, dear Robin, what a foolish man you are! How should I ever
have dreamed all those months that you were caring for me when you acted
so abominably S C O T C H? With most men, behavior like yours would
not be considered a mark of affection. I wish you had just given me a
glimmering of an idea of the truth, and maybe you would have saved us
both a few heartaches.
But we mustn't be looking back; we must look forward and be grateful.
The two happiest things in life are going to be ours, a FRIENDLY
marriage and work that we love.
Yesterday, after leaving you, I walked back to the asylum sort of dazed.
I wanted to get by myself and THINK, but instead of being by myself,
I had to have Betsy and Percy and Mrs. Livermore for dinner (already
invited) and then go down and talk to the children. Friday night-social
evening. They had a lot of new records for the victrola, given by
Mrs. Livermore, and I had to sit politely and listen to them. And, my
dear--you'll think this funny--the last thing they played was "John
Anderson, my jo John," and suddenly I found myself crying! I had to
snatch up the earnest orphan and hug her hard, with my head buried in
her shoulder, to keep them all from seeing.