Dear Enemy

I haven't seen the doctor. They telegraphed to New York for a surgeon,

who set his leg. The break was pretty bad, and will take time. They

don't think there are any internal injuries, though he is awfully

battered up. As soon as we are allowed to see him I will send more

detailed particulars. I really must stop if I am to catch tomorrow's

steamer.

Good-by. Don't worry. There are a dozen silver linings to this cloud

that I'll write about tomorrow.

SALLIE.

Good heavens! here comes an automobile with J. F. Bretland in it!

THE JOHN GRIER HOME,

January 14.

Dear Judy:

Listen to this! J. F. Bretland read about our fire in a New York paper

(I will say that the metropolitan press made the most of details), and

he posted up here in a twitter of anxiety. His first question as he

tumbled across our blackened threshold was,

"Is Allegra safe?"

"Yes," said I.

"Thank God!" he cried, and dropped into a chair. "This is no place for

children," he said severely, "and I have come to take her home. I want

the boys, too," he added hastily before I had a chance to speak. "My

wife and I have talked it over, and we have decided that since we are

going to the trouble of starting a nursery, we might as well run it for

three as for one."

I led him up to my library, where our little family has been domiciled

since the fire, and ten minutes later, when I was called down to confer

with the trustees, I left J. F. Bretland with his new daughter on his

knee and a son leaning against each arm, the proudest father in the

United States.

So, you see, our fire has accomplished one thing: those three children

are settled for life. It is almost worth the loss.

But I don't believe I told you how the fire started. There are so many

things I haven't told you that my arm aches at the thought of writing

them all. Sterry, we have since discovered, was spending the week end

as our guest. After a bibulous evening passed at "Jack's Place," he

returned to our carriage house, climbed in through a window, lighted

a candle, made himself comfortable, and dropped asleep. He must have

forgotten to put out the candle; anyway, the fire happened, and Sterry

just escaped with his life. He is now in the town hospital, bathed in

sweet oil, and painfully regretting his share in our troubles.

I am pleased to learn that our insurance was pretty adequate, so the

money loss won't be so tremendous, after all. As for other kinds of

loss, there aren't any! Actually, nothing but gain so far as I can make

out, barring, of course, our poor smashed-up doctor. Everybody has been

wonderful; I didn't know that so much charity and kindness existed in

the human race. Did I ever say anything against trustees? I take it

back. Four of them posted up from New York the morning after the fire,

and all of the local people have been wonderful. Even the Hon. Cy has

been so occupied in remaking the morals of the five orphans quartered

upon him that he hasn't caused any trouble at all.