What you tell me of Andy McLean's success at Harvard does not astonish me. I was sure he would do well. I shall not be astonished either when you tell me some other news about Andy. Come on now, Nance, and 'fess up.
Good-bye.—Edwin sends his kindest regards to you and says he, too, is counting on that visit from you in January.
Yours always,
Molly.
Mrs. Sarah Carmichael Clay to Mrs. Mildred Carmichael Brown.
Dear Milly:
For a woman who is noted through the whole County as being the least practical person in the world, the most gullible and credulous, you certainly seem to come out at the big end of the horn.
You have managed to marry off your daughters very young, though in my opinion they are none of them beauties. Your sons seem to be able to support themselves. You have contrived to sell your birthright to an oil trust and to lift the mortgage on Chatsworth. Your servants stay with you until they die on your hands; and your friends vie with each other in rendering service to you.
I can't understand it. You must be deeper than shows on the surface. Anyhow, I take off my hat to you as being much more of a personage than I ever gave you credit for.