“What led to this impulsive plan, I have only a faint notion, but that makes no difference; it is the work out of it that bothers me.
“Because you will be involved, I shall have to be more frank about Leslie than I like; and I think I shall do it through rules.
“You are not to play maid to Leslie; run ribbons in her clothes, errands for her, or answer her many and various whims. No doubt this particular interest will last about two or three weeks, and during that time I insist that you go your own way in complete independence and remember you are under no obligation to a girl who is—I am sorry to say—both spoiled and lazy.
“Love to you, dear child, and the best of luck with Signor Paggi; I—I know—am going to live to be even more proud of you than I am at this moment!
“Always affectionately and devotedly your friend,
“Sheila Parrish.”
and then the date. I thought it was a nice letter and I read it several times and then I tore it up in tiny pieces and sat down to answer it, and to assure Miss Sheila, without rapping on wood—and it never hurts to rap on wood!—that I knew that everything would be all right.
Lunch came right in the middle of my writing, and after lunch I went to one of the practice rooms—which were way down the hall—and played for a while. Then I finished my letter, and decided I would go out and post it, which worried Miss Julianna, whom I met in the hall.
“No,” she said, shaking her head hard, “You get lost.”
“But the Italians are awfully easy pointers,” I said—I had learned even then that they wave their hands a lot—“and as long as they can do that, and I can say ‘Piazza Indipendenza’ and ‘Pension Dante’ I guess I’ll get along all right; you see how it would work—”