To-morrow I'm going out by
myself and finish up everything. Hope would be horrified at my
purchases, for Hope has forgotten when she, too, had to be careful in
her expenditures. Her brother hasn't.
"Did I tell you about the crazy mistake I made? I thought, from what
Dorothea told me, he was an old gentleman, her mother's uncle, and
wrote him a note before I met him. Dorothea adores him, and when his
dog died I was so sorry I told him so. I wonder what does make me do
such impulsive things! I get so discouraged about myself. I'll
never, never be a proper person. He isn't old.
"I wish you could see the letter Beverly wrote me from Mammy
Malaprop. She says she is 'numberating the date of my return to the
dissolute land in which I live, and is a-preparing to serve for
supper all the indelicacies of the season.' If I didn't know old
Malaprop I'd think Beverly was making up her messages, but no
imagination could conceive of her twists and turns of the English
language.
"Are the hens laying at all? and please tell Andrews to watch the
sheep carefully; it's so bitterly cold.
"I've had a beautiful time, but, oh, mother dear, I shall be so glad
to get home, where there are real things to do and where you all love
me just for myself! Every night I kiss your picture and wish it was
you.
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