The romantic glamour which Judy cast over this orphan asylum exists only
in her poetic imagination. The place is AWFUL. Words can't tell you
how dreary and dismal and smelly it is: long corridors, bare walls;
blue-uniformed, dough-faced little inmates that haven't the slightest
resemblance to human children. And oh, the dreadful institution smell!
A mingling of wet scrubbed floors, unaired rooms, and food for a hundred
people always steaming on the stove.
The asylum not only has to be made over, but every child as well, and
it's too herculean a task for such a selfish, luxurious, and lazy person
as Sallie McBride ever to have undertaken. I'm resigning the very first
moment that Judy can find a suitable successor, but that, I fear, will
not be immediately. She has gone off South, leaving me stranded, and of
course, after having promised, I can't simply abandon her asylum. But in
the meantime I assure you that I'm homesick.
Write me a cheering letter, and send a flower to brighten my private
drawing room. I inherited it, furnished, from Mrs. Lippett. The wall
is covered with a tapestry paper in brown and red; the furniture is
electric-blue plush, except the center table, which is gilt. Green
predominates in the carpet. If you presented some pink rosebuds, they
would complete the color scheme.
I really was obnoxious that last evening, but you are avenged.
Remorsefully yours,
SALLIE McBRIDE.
P.S. You needn't have been so grumpy about the Scotch doctor. The man is
everything dour that the word "Scotch" implies. I detest him on sight,
and he detests me. Oh, we're going to have a sweet time working together
THE JOHN GRIER HOME,
February 22.
My dear Gordon:
Your vigorous and expensive message is here. I know that you have plenty
of money, but that is no reason why you should waste it so frivolously.
When you feel so bursting with talk that only a hundred-word telegram
will relieve an explosion, at least turn it into a night lettergram. My
orphans can use the money if you don't need it.
Also, my dear sir, please use a trifle of common sense. Of course I
can't chuck the asylum in the casual manner you suggest. It wouldn't
be fair to Judy and Jervis. If you will pardon the statement, they have
been my friends for many more years than you, and I have no intention
of letting them go hang. I came up here in a spirit of--well, say
adventure, and I must see the venture through. You wouldn't like me if
I were a short sport. This doesn't mean, however, that I am sentencing
myself for life; I am in tending to resign just as soon as the
opportunity comes. But really I ought to feel somewhat gratified that
the Pendletons were willing to trust me with such a responsible post.
Though you, my dear sir, do not suspect it, I possess considerable
executive ability, and more common sense than is visible on the surface.
If I chose to put my whole soul into this enterprise, I could make the
rippingest superintendent that any 111 orphans ever had.