"Well, what am I talking about? Let me see if I can put it into words. The girls, you know, are always arranging for this and that entertainment. I meet them oftener, now that you have insisted on my going back to the music class. To some of these entertainments I am invited, and to more of them I am not. I never go, on account of clothes and some other things.
"Imagine a party of girls gathered in the music-room or the hall, in full tide of talk about what they will wear, and how they will arrange their hair, and their ribbons, and all that sort of thing; and imagine a sudden silence settling over them because I have appeared in sight, as though I were a grim fairy before whom it was their misfortune to have to be forever silent about everything that was pretty, or cost money!
"Now I am going to make a confession, and I know it is just as silly as it can be, but sometimes I can not help rushing home, and running up to my room, and locking my door, and crying as though my heart would break.
"I am thoughtful, though, about choosing times and occasions for these outbreaks. I generally select an afternoon when mamma is out executing some of your numerous commissions; but even then I have to bathe my eyes for half an hour so that the poor, dear, sweet, patient woman will know nothing about it. I never do let her know, Claire. She thinks that I am good and happy, and occasionally she tells me that I am growing self-controlled like you, and then I feel like a hypocrite; but all the same, for her own good I don't enlighten her.
"Claire, dear, don't you suppose it is the silly parties to which I do not go which trouble me. I have not the slightest desire to go, and I don't think of them often; I don't, really. Well, that about having no desire, needs qualifying. I mean I would not have, if I could go; I mean I should like to be perfectly able to go if I chose, and then to choose to remain at home. Do you understand?
"If the girls would only be free and social, and talk with me as though nothing had happened, I should learn not to care. But it is so hard to always feel that people are saying: 'Hush! there she comes, poor thing, don't talk about it now, or we shall hurt her feelings!' I would rather have them drop me entirely, I believe, as Estelle Mitchell has done. She doesn't bow to me any more, even when we meet face to face; doesn't see me, you know, but she does even that politely. I don't know how she manages. Claire, do you remember the time papa signed that ten thousand dollar note for her father? Well, never mind. I am writing a silly and, a wicked letter. I haven't written so to you before, have I? I'll tell you what has stirred me so, lately, everybody is in a flutter about the house. Claire, it is sold. You know what house I mean; the dear old one on the avenue, every separate stone of which speaks of papa. That Mr. Chessney bought it, who spends half of his time abroad. There is a rumor that he is to be married some time—nobody seems to know just when—and bring his bride there to live. It is well for me that I shall not have a chance to move in her circle, for I feel almost certain that I should have to hate her a little.
"It is very absurd, of course, but the girls are actually beginning already to talk about the possible reception, though they don't even know who the prospective bride is. Some have located her in Chicago, and some in Europe. I can not discover that there is an absolute certainty about there being any bride, and yet some of the young ladies are planning what would be pretty and unique to wear.
"Estelle Mitchell is sure of being invited, because her brother Dick used to be quite intimately acquainted with one of the Chessney family; and Dora Benedict is sure of not being invited, because she is not intimately acquainted with anybody any more. I wonder who will have our rooms—our dear old rooms? Yes, that largest blot is a tear. I couldn't help it, and I haven't time to copy, and could not afford to waste the paper, if I had. I don't cry very often, but I was foolish enough to walk by the blessed old home this morning, and look up at the open window in papa's study!