Dear Enemy

I was assuring him with convincing earnestness that I didn't care a rap

about the doctor, that I thought he was just as funny and impossible as

he could be, when suddenly the doctor rose out of his car and walked up

to us.

I could have evaporated from the earth very comfortably at that moment!

Sandy was quite clearly angry, as well he might be, after the things

he'd heard, but he was entirely cold and collected. Gordon was hot, and

bursting with imaginary wrongs. I was aghast at this perfectly foolish

and unnecessary muddle that had suddenly arisen out of nothing. Sandy

apologized to me with unimpeachable politeness for inadvertently

overhearing, and then turned to Gordon and stiffly invited him to get

into his car and ride to the station.

I begged him not to go. I didn't wish to be the cause of any silly

quarrel between them. But without paying the slightest attention to

me, they climbed into the car, and whirled away, leaving me placidly

standing on the door mat.

I came in and went to bed, and lay awake for hours, expecting to hear--I

don't know what kind of explosion. It is now eleven o'clock, and the

doctor hasn't appeared. I don't know how on earth I shall meet him when

he does. I fancy I shall hide in the clothes closet.

Did you ever know anything as unnecessary and stupid as this whole

situation? I suppose now I've quarreled with Gordon,--and I positively

don't know over what,--and of course my relations with the doctor are

going to be terribly awkward. I said horrid things about him,--you know

the silly way I talk,--things I didn't mean in the least.

I wish it were yesterday at this time. I would make Gordon go at four.

SALLIE.

Sunday afternoon.

Dear Dr. MacRae:

That was a horrid, stupid, silly business last night. But by this time

you must know me well enough to realize that I never mean the foolish

things I say. My tongue has no slightest connection with my brain; it

just runs along by itself. I must seem to you very ungrateful for

all the help you have given me in this unaccustomed work and for the

patience you have (occasionally) shown.

I do appreciate the fact that I could never have run this asylum by

myself without your responsible presence in the background. And though

once in a while, as you yourself must acknowledge, you have been pretty

impatient and bad tempered and difficult, still I have never held it up

against you, and I really didn't mean any of the ill-mannered things I

said last night. Please forgive me for being rude. I should hate very

much to lose your friendship. And we are friends, are we not? I like to

think so.