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Dear Enemy

Page 94

I am looking eagerly forward to August and three months with you.

As ever,

SALLIE.

Friday.

Dear Enemy:

It's very forgiving of me to invite you to dinner after that volcanic

explosion of last week. However, please come. You remember our

philanthropic friend, Mr. Hallock, who sent us the peanuts and goldfish

and other indigestible trifles? He will be with us tonight, so this is

your chance to turn the stream of his benevolence into more hygienic

channels.

We dine at seven.

As ever,

SALLIE McBRIDE.

Dear Enemy:

You should have lived in the days when each man inhabited a separate

cave on a separate mountain.

S. McBRIDE.

Friday, 6:30.

Dear Judy:

Gordon is here, and a reformed man so far as his attitude toward my

asylum goes. He has discovered the world-old truth that the way to a

mother's heart is through praise of her children, and he had nothing but

praise for all 107 of mine. Even in the case of Loretta Higgins he found

something pleasant to say. He thinks it nice that she isn't cross-eyed.

He went shopping with me in the village this afternoon, and was very

helpful about picking out hair-ribbons for a couple of dozen little

girls. He begged to choose Sadie Kate's himself, and after many

hesitations he hit upon orange satin for one braid and emerald green for

the other.

While we were immersed in this business I became aware of a neighboring

customer, ostensibly engaged with hooks and eyes, but straining every

ear to listen to our nonsense.

She was so dressed up in a picture hat, a spotted veil, a feather boa,

and a NOUVEAU ART parasol that I never dreamed she was any acquaintance

of mine till I happened to catch her eye with a familiar malicious gleam

in it. She bowed stiffly, and disapprovingly; and I nodded back. Mrs.

Maggie McGurk in her company clothes!

That is a pleasanter expression than she really has. Her smile is due to

a slip of the pen.

Poor Mrs. McGurk can't understand any possible intellectual interest in

a man. She suspects me of wanting to marry every single one that I meet.

At first she thought I wanted to snatch away her doctor; but now, after

seeing me with Gordon, she considers me a bigamous monster who wants

them both.

Good-by; some guests approach.

11:30 P.M.

I have just been giving a dinner for Gordon, with Betsy and Mrs.

Livermore and Mr. Witherspoon as guests. I graciously included the

doctor, but he curtly declined on the ground that he wasn't in a social

mood. Our Sandy does not let politeness interfere with truth!

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