Put on your bonnet, love,
Don’t act a fool;
See that your harness fits
Same as a mule.”
We almost feel we are at Black Horse Farm again at home. Between parties Sybil, Checkers, and I go sight-seeing, for Aunt says we must learn something besides deviltry.
“So you think I’m enjoying myself too much over here, Auntie,” my twin remarks. “Well, when I get home I’ll show you I’m not afraid of work,—I’ll lie right down beside it, see if I don’t. But while I’m here, I’m out for a good time.”
I’ve seen the Prince many times lately; he is most devoted. I love his letters, he interests but he frightens me a little. My feelings are so mixed I can’t write them down. When not with me, he spends much time with Peppi and Madame Mona Lisa. I often see them prowling about among the old paintings in the galleries.
PRINCE BORIS TO POLLY
Rome,