"Your aunt thinks you would like to have a letter from me, and although I can't see how you can possibly care about hearing from such a stupid person, I am very glad to write.
"You have no idea how much I have missed you. If your mother and aunt had not been so very kind I don't think I could have borne it, but, oh, Marjorie dear they are so good; I do hope I can deserve just a little of all they are doing for me. Your mother is making me a new dress—isn't it sweet of her? She sent to Albuquerque for the material; it is dark blue serge with a little stripe in it, and just as pretty as it can be. I take a sewing lesson every day from Miss Jessie, but I know as well as can be that I shall never learn to make things as you do.
"Another thing that makes me very happy is that your mother is giving me lessons, and letting me recite to her every evening. Even if I am stupid and can't remember my own name, I don't want to grow up ignorant. We are reading English history together, and it is very strange, but I almost always know what is coming next. Mrs. Graham says she feels sure I must have learned the same things before.
"A very strange thing happened to me one day last week; I think I almost remembered. It was the day your long letter to Miss Jessie came, and she was reading it aloud to us when it happened. It was just like the day I heard Jim singing 'Mandalay' for the first time. It seemed to me just for one minute that I was going to remember everything, and I was so excited I screamed, and frightened Mrs. Graham and Miss Jessie. Then in a flash it was all gone again, and I was so unhappy I couldn't help crying. I am afraid I gave them a good deal of trouble, but they were so kind! Afterward Miss Jessie talked to me for a long time, and made me promise to try not to worry any more about not remembering. She said some lovely comforting things about my being helpful and trying to take your place, and they made me very happy, although I am afraid I didn't really deserve them.
"I ride almost every afternoon, and I think Roland is beginning to like me. I never forget his sugar, and I am teaching him to put his nose in my pocket for it. I think I must have taught another horse that some time, it seemed so natural, but I am not sure. I have promised your aunt not to talk about the things I think I used to do.
"I had such a beautiful dream last night. I thought some one came and told me I was very rich, and I was so happy, because I would have the money to pay a surgeon to come and see Miss Jessie. I was just planning out how I was to do it when I woke up. I have thought a great deal about what you told me that last evening, but of course I have never mentioned it to any one. I don't suppose you have had time to meet a surgeon yet.
"I must stop writing now, and study my history. Everybody is well, and they all send heaps of love and kisses. Your mother says 'don't let Marjorie know how much we miss her,' but I am sure you know that without any telling. I don't want to be selfish, but I should just love a letter all to myself some time. New York must be a very interesting place, and your letters telling about it all are wonderful.
"With a heart full of love, I am
"Your true but nameless friend,
"Undine."
Marjorie spent a busy evening over her lessons, and went to bed at nine o'clock instead of writing the home letters she had intended.
"They would be so sorry to know I was here all by myself while the others were off having a good time," she thought, resolutely crushing down that troublesome little feeling of envy. "If I wrote to-night I should have to mention it, but if I wait till Sunday when Aunt Julia and Elsie are back again, I won't have to say anything about their having been away. I promised Mother to let her know about all the things, but some of them will keep till I get home and can tell her myself."