January 25.
Detroit is such a lovely city and I am having such a royal, good time, that I have neglected thee, my little white-faced friend.
Florence has kept me going every minute. I met a Mr. Ford last night and of all the men I have met since coming here I like him the best. He loves music, poetry and flowers, and we are very congenial.
I have been here two weeks and have not kept my promise to Mr. Forsythe to write. I must do so tonight, so farewell, my friend, for tonight.