The　affairs　of　the　nation　and　the　rearing　of　orphans　are　alike　delegated　to　the　background　while　we　paddle　about　among　the　lily　pads　of　this　delectable　lake。　　I　look　forward　with　reluctance　to　7：56　next　Monday　morning；　when　I　turn　my　back　on　the　mountains。　　The　awful　thing　about　a　vacation　is　that　the　moment　it　begins　your　happiness　is　already　clouded　by　its　approaching　end。
  I　hear　a　voice　on　the　veranda　asking　if　Sallie　is　to　be　found　within　or　without。
  ADDIO！
  S。
  August　3。　Dear　Judy：
  Back　at　the　John　Grier；　reshouldering　the　burdens　of　the　coming　generation。　　What　should　meet　my　eyes　upon　entering　these　grounds　but　John　Cobden；　of　pancake　turner　memory；　wearing　a　badge　upon　his　sleeve。　　I　turned　it　to　me　and　read　〃S。　P。　C。　A。〃　in　letters　of　gold！　　The　doctor；　during　my　absence；　has　formed　a　local　branch　of　the　Cruelty　to　Animals；　and　made　Johnnie　its　president。
  I　hear　that　yesterday　he　stopped　the　workmen　on　the　foundation　for　the　new　farm　cottage　and　scolded　them　severely　for　whipping　their　horses　up　the　incline！　　None　of　all　this　strikes　any　one　but　me　as　funny。
  There's　a　lot　of　news；　but　with　you　due　in　four　days；　why　bother　to　write？　　Just　one　delicious　bit　I　am　saving　for　the　end。
  So　hold　your　breath。　　You　are　going　to　receive　a　thrill　on　page　4。　　You　should　hear　Sadie　Kate　squeal！　　Jane　is　cutting　her　hair。
  Instead　of　wearing　it　in　two　tight　braids　like　this　our　little　colleen　will　in　the　future　look　like　this
  〃Them　pigtails　got　on　my　nerves；〃　says　Jane。
  You　can　see　how　much　more　stylish　and　becoming　the　present　coiffure　is。　　I　think　somebody　will　be　wanting　to　adopt　her。　　Only　Sadie　Kate　is　such　an　independent；　manly　little　creature；　she　is　eminently　fitted　by　nature　to　shift　for　herself。　　I　must　save　adopting　parents　for　the　helpless　ones。
  You　should　see　our　new　clothes！　　I　can't　wait　for　this　assemblage　of　rosebuds　to　burst　upon　you。　　And　you　should　have　seen　those　blue　ginghamed　eyes　brighten　when　the　new　frocks　were　actually　given　outthree　for　each　girl；　all　different　colors；　and　all　perfectly　private　personal　property；　with　the　owner's　indelible　name　inside　the　collar。　　Mrs。　Lippett's　lazy　system　of　having　each　child　draw　from　the　wash　a　promiscuous　dress　each　week；　was　an　insult　to　feminine　nature。
  Sadie　Kate　is　squealing　like　a　baby　pig。　　I　must　go　to　see　if　Jane　has　by　mistake　clipped　off　an　ear。
  Jane　hasn't。　　Sadie's　excellent　ears　are　still　intact。　　She　is　just　squealing　on　principle；　the　way　one　does　in　a　dentist's　chair；　under　the　belief　that　it　is　going　to　hurt　the　next　instant。
  I　really　can't　think　of　anything　else　to　write　except　my　news；so　here　it　is；and　I　hope　you'll　like　it。
  I　am　engaged　to　be　married。
  My　love　to　you　both。
  S。　McB。
  THE　JOHN　GRIER　HOME；
  November　15。　Dear　Judy：
  Betsy　and　I　are　just　back　from　a　GIRO　in　our　new　motor　car。　　It　undoubtedly　does　add　to　the　pleasure　of　institution　life。　　The　car　of　its　own　accord　turned　up　Long　Ridge　Road；　and　stopped　before　the　gates　of　Shadywell。　　The　chains　were　up；　and　the　shutters　battened　down；　and　the　place　looked　closed　and　gloomy　and　rain…soaked。　　It　wore　a　sort　of　fall　of　the　House　of　Usher　air；　and　didn't　in　the　least　resemble　the　cheerful　house　that　used　to　greet　me　hospitably　of　an　afternoon。
  I　hate　to　have　our　nice　summer　ended。　　It　seems　as　though　a　section　of　my　life　was　shut　away　behind　me；　and　the　unknown　future　was　pressing　awfully　close。　　Positively；　I'd　like　to　postpone　that　wedding　another　six　months；　but　I'm　afraid　poor　Gordon　would　make　too　dreadful　a　fuss。　　Don't　think　I'm　getting　wobbly；　for　I'm　not。　　It's　just　that　somehow　I　need　more　time　to　think　about　it；　and　March　is　getting　nearer　every　day。　　I　know　absolutely　that　I'm　doing　the　most　sensible　thing。　　Everybody；　man　or　woman；　is　the　better　for　being　nicely　and　appropriately　and　cheerfully　married。　　But　oh　dear！　oh　dear！　I　do　hate　upheavals；　and　this　is　going　to　be　such　a　world…without…end　upheaval！　　Sometimes　when　the　day's　work　is　over；　and　I'm　tired；　I　haven't　the　spirit　to　rise　and　meet　it。
  And　now　especially　since　you've　bought　Shadywell；　and　are　going　to　be　here　every　summer；　I　resent　having　to　leave。　　Next　year；　when　I'm　far　away；　I'll　be　consumed　with　homesickness；　thinking　of　all　the　busy；　happy　times　at　the　John　Grier；　with　you　and　Betsy　and　Percy　and　our　grumbly　Scotchman　working　away　cheerfully　without　me。　　How　can　anything　ever　make　up　to　a　mother　for　the　loss　of　107　children？
  I　trust　that　Judy；　junior；　stood　the　journey　into　town　without　upsetting　her　usual　poise。　　I　am　sending　her　a　bit　giftie；　made　partly　by　myself　and　chiefly　by　Jane。　　But　two　rows；　I　must　inform　you；　were　done　by　the　doctor。　　One　only　gradually　plumbs　the　depths　of　Sandy's　nature。　　After　a　ten…months'　acquaintance　with　the　man；　I　discover　that　he　knows　how　to　knit；　an　accomplishment　he　picked　up　in　his　boyhood　from　an　old　shepherd　on　the　Scotch　moors。
  He　dropped　in　three　days　ago　and　stayed　for　tea；　really　in　almost　his　old　friendly　mood。　　But　he　has　since　stiffened　up　again　to　the　same　man　of　granite　we　knew　all　summer。　　I've　given　up　trying　to　make　him　out。　　I　suppose；　however；　that　any　one　might　be　expected　to　be　a　bit　down　with　a　wife　in　an　insane　asylum。　　I　wish　he'd　talk　about　it　once。　　It's　awful　having　such　a　shadow　hovering　in　the　background　of　your　thoughts　and　never　coming　out　into　plain　sight。
  I　know　that　this　letter　doesn't　contain　a　word　of　the　kind　of　news　that　you　like　to　hear。　　But　it's　that　beastly　twilight　hour　of　a　damp　November　day；　and　I'm　in　a　beastly　uncheerful　mood。　　I'm　awfully　afraid　that　I　am　developing　into　a　temperamental　person；　and　Heaven　knows　Gordon　can　supply　all　the　temperament　that　one　family　needs！　　I　don't　know　where　we'll　land　if　I　don't　preserve　my　sensibly　stolid；　cheerful　nature。
  Have　you　really　decided　to　go　South　with　Jervis？　　I　appreciate　your　feeling　（to　a　slight　extent）　about　not　wanting　to　be　separated　from　a　husband；　but　it　does　seem　sort　of　hazardous　to　me　to　move　so　young　a　daughter　to　the　tropics。
  The　children　are　playing　blind　man's　buff　in　the　lower　corridor。　　I　think　I'll　have　a　romp　with　them；　and　try　to　be　in　a　more　affable　mood　before　resuming　my　pen。
  A　BIENTOT！
  SALLIE。
  P。S。　　These　November　nights　are　pretty　cold；　and　we　are　getting　ready　to　move　the　camps　indoors。　　Our　Indians　are　very　pampered　young　savages　at　present；　with　a　double　supply　of　blankets　and　hot…water　bottles。　　I　shall　hate　to　see　the　camps　go；　they　have　done　a　lot　for　us。　　Our　lads　will　be　as　tough　as　Canadian　trappers　when　they　come　in。
  November　20。　Dear　Judy：
  Your　motherly　solicitude　is　sweet；　but　I　didn't　mean　what　I　said。
  Of　course　it's　perfectly　safe　to　convey　Judy；　junior；　to　the　temperately　tropical　lands　that　are　washed　by　the　Caribbean。　　She'll　thrive　as　long　as　you　don't　set　her　absolutely　on　top　of　the　equator。　　And　your　bungalow；　shaded　by　palms　and　fanned　by　sea　breezes；　with　an　ice　machine　in　the　back　yard　and　an　English　doctor　across　the　bay；　sounds　made　for　the　rearing　of　babies。
  My　objections　were　all　due　to　the　selfish　fact　that　I　and　the　John　Grier　are　going　to　be　lonely　without　you　this　winter。　　I　really　think　it's　entrancing　to　have　a　husband　who　engages　in　such　picturesque　pursuits　as　financing　tropical　railroads　and　developing　asphalt　lakes　and　rubber　groves　and　mahogany　forests。　　I　wish　that　Gordon　would　take　to　life　in　those　picturesque　countries；　I'd　be　more　thrilled　by　the　romantic　possibilities　of　the　future。　　Washington　seems　awfully　commonplace　compared　with　Honduras　and　Nicaragua　and　the　islands　of　the　Caribbean。
  I'll　be　down　to　wave　good…by。
  ADDIO！
  SALLIE。
  November　24。　Dear　Gordon：
  Judy　has　gone　back　to　town；　and　is　sailing　next　week　for　Jamaica；　where　she　is　to　make　her　headquarters　while　Jervis　cruises　about　adjacent　waters　on　these　entertaining　new　ventures　of　his。　　Couldn't　you　engage　in　traffic　in　the　South　Seas？　　I　think　I'd　feel　pleasanter　about　leaving　my　asylum　if　you　had　something　romantic　and　adventurous　to　offer　instead。　　And　think　how　beautiful　you'd　be　in　those　white　linen　clothes！　　I　really　believe　I　might　be　able　to　stay　in　love　with　a　man　quite　permanently　if　he　always　dressed　in　white。
  You　can't　imagine　how　I　miss　Judy。　　Her　absence　leaves　a　dreadful　hole　in　my　afternoons。　　Can't　you　run　up　for　a　week　end　soon？　　I　think　the　sight　of　you　would　be　very　cheering；　and　I'm　feeling　awfully　down　of　late。　　You　know；　my　dear　Gordon；　I　like　you　much　better　when　you're　right　here　before　my　eyes　than　when　I　merely　think　about　you　from　a　distance。　　I　believe　you　must　have　a　sort　of　hypnotic　influence。　　Occasionally；　after　you've　been　away　a