NEW FRIENDS AND NEW FASHIONS
"November 6th.
"DEAREST AUNT JESSIE:
"I am at home alone this evening; Uncle Henry and
Aunt Julia have gone out to dinner, and Elsie is
at a party. I am going to write you a long, long
letter, and try to tell you every single thing
that has happened.
"I have been here just a week, and I think I am
beginning to get more accustomed to things. It is
all very interesting, but some of it does seem a
little queer, and, oh, how I do wish I could have
a good talk with Mother or you, and ask you to
explain the things I don't understand. Aunt Julia
is very kind, but I could never talk to her as I
do to you and Mother. The things that puzzle me
most are what it is proper to do and what isn't.
For one thing, they say it isn't proper to speak
to people unless one has been introduced. At home
we always speak to every one whether they are in
the 'Social Register' or not. The Social Register
is a book, and Elsie says the names of all the
nice people are in it, and when her mother wants
to find out who people are, and whether or not she
wants to have Elsie know them she just looks for
their names in the Social Register, and if she
finds them there she knows they are all right.
Then it isn't considered proper for girls to go
out by themselves in New York. I have seen some
nice-looking girls alone in the streets, but Elsie
says they can't be the kind one wants to know.
Hortense, the French maid, always goes out with
Elsie and me, and even carries our books to school
for us. Hortense is very nice, but it is rather a
bother having her always about, and she wants to
do a great many more things for me than I really
need. But the greatest difficulty of all is that
Elsie isn't fond of walking, and I do miss my
tramps dreadfully. We walk to school and back
every day, but it isn't far, and in the afternoon
Elsie is always having engagements. So I go
driving with Aunt Julia, and, oh, but it does seem
slow! Aunt Julia hates to drive fast, and I
sometimes feel as if I would give anything to jump
out of the carriage and have one good run. I know
I could easily keep up with those horses if it
were only proper to run behind the carriage, but
of course it isn't.
"I ought not to object to going out with Aunt
Julia, for she has been very good to me. She is
having some perfectly lovely dresses made for me,
and has bought me two simply wonderful hats. I am
not sure whether Mother would quite approve of all
my new clothes. Some of them do look very
grown-up, but then the girls here are all much
more grown-up than I had any idea they would be.
Elsie puts up her hair, and wanted me to put mine
up, too, but I knew Mother wouldn't like it, and
Uncle Henry said I was right.
"I have been at school every day since Monday, and
like it very much indeed. It is not a large
school, only a class of twelve girls. The
teacher's name is Miss Lothrop, and Elsie and
several of the other girls have been going to her
since they were quite little. Miss Lothrop is
lovely, and all the girls have been very kind and
polite to me. The two I like best are Lulu Bell
and Winifred Hamilton. Elsie says they are both
very young for their age, and I think perhaps that
is the reason I like them better than some of the
others. Winifred is only thirteen, but she is just
as sweet as she can be, and Lulu is awfully
pretty, and a great favorite. Carol Hastings is
another girl in the class, and Elsie's most
intimate friend. She is only fourteen, but seems
much older. I wonder why New York girls seem to
care so much about boys. I like a nice boy ever so
much myself, but I can't see the use of giggling
and looking silly every time his name is
mentioned. Carol Hastings came here to dinner last
night, and when Beverly Randolph came over to our
table to speak to us, she was so silly I was
really ashamed of her. I spoke to Elsie about it
afterwards, and she said Carol was a goose, but I
think she is a little bit silly herself sometimes.
I wrote Mother all about Beverly Randolph, and how
much I liked him. I would give anything to have a
brother just like him. He adores his mother, and I
don't wonder, for she is lovely. He says she is so
jolly, and is always interested in everything he
is interested in; even the college games. His
father died when he was little, and I suppose this
is one reason why he and his mother are so much to
each other. There is an uncle, who is a doctor,
but he only comes to dine with them sometimes, and
lives somewhere else. Mrs. Randolph has one of the
sweetest faces I have ever seen--yours and Mothers
excepted--and she looks very young to be the
mother of a big boy of eighteen. She dresses in
black, and looks rather sad sometimes, but I
suppose that is when she is thinking of her
husband.
"Elsie is very clever, and Aunt Julia admires her
tremendously. She says Elsie has always been the
brightest girl in her classes and that she recites
Shakespeare quite wonderfully. I haven't heard her
recite yet, but she plays the piano very well, and
takes music lessons twice a week. She speaks
French, too, and is beginning to study German. Of
course I am not nearly as far advanced as she is,
but Miss Lothrop says I am not backward for my
age, and that makes me very happy. I was so proud
when she asked me if I had a governess at home,
and I told her Father and Mother had taught me
everything I knew. I don't think Elsie liked my
saying that; she says I mustn't talk about our
being poor, but I am sure I can't see why she
should object. However, I have promised to try not
to say anything she doesn't like; they have all
been so good to me that I do want to please them
if I can.
"Last Tuesday was Aunt Julia's birthday, and she
gave a family dinner party. She has a good many
relatives, and they all came. I should think Elsie
would love having so many cousins, but she says
she doesn't care very much about many of them.
Aunt Julia's two sisters were here, and I thought
the oldest one--Mrs. Lamont--was lovely. Her
daughter, Miss Annie, came with her, and she was
awfully nice and jolly. She is quite old--about
twenty-five I think--and she works downtown in a
settlement. I didn't know what a settlement was,
but Elsie explained that it is a place where
ladies go to live among very poor ignorant people,
and try to help them. She and her mother send some
of their old clothes to Miss Lamont, and she gives
them to the poor women at the settlement. Aunt
Julia's other sister is Mrs. Ward. She is quite
stout, and talks a great deal about what is good
for her to eat and what isn't. She was nice, but I
didn't like her as much as the Lamonts. Her
husband is fat, too, and is always saying funny
things that make people laugh. They have two
little girls, but they were not allowed to come
because Tuesday was a school night, and they are
never allowed to go out anywhere except on Fridays
and Saturdays. Elsie can go out any night she
likes, because she is so clever that Aunt Julia
says it doesn't matter whether she misses her
lessons one day or not. There is a Ward boy, too,
but he is at Yale. Elsie likes him best of all her
cousins, and she says he is very fond of her,
too. Aunt Julia says all the boys admire Elsie
very much, but I think she is mistaken about
Beverly Randolph. He has such an honest face that
he can't hide his feelings, and when Elsie and
Carol giggled so much that night, and talked so
very grown-up, I am sure he was trying not to
laugh.
"You can't begin to imagine how glad I was to get
your and Mother's precious letters. I read them
over and over until I almost knew them by heart,
and slept with Mother's first one under my pillow
all night. Father's letter was splendid too, and I
was so interested to hear all about the new colts.
I am so glad Undine is proving such a comfort. I
knew you couldn't help loving her, she is such a
dear, and she promised to try to take my place. I
told the girls at school about her, and they
thought it the most interesting thing they had
ever heard. Lulu Bell says she is going to tell
her aunt, who is an authoress, about it, and ask
her to put Undine in a book. Won't it be too
interesting if she really does?
"O dear! there is the clock striking ten, and I
have been writing ever since half-past eight. I
must stop now, and go to bed, or I shall be sleepy
to-morrow morning. Ten o'clock at night used to
seem very late indeed at home, but it seems quite
early here. Elsie doesn't expect to get home from
her party before half past eleven. Uncle Henry
doesn't approve of late hours for school-girls,
but Aunt Julia says everybody in New York keeps
them, so it can't be helped. I forgot to say the
party is at Bessie Winston's. She is one of the
girls at Miss Lothrop's, and one of Elsie's
intimate friends. I was invited, too, but Aunt
Julia wouldn't let me accept, because my new
dresses haven't come home yet. Elsie says I
wouldn't have enjoyed it, anyway, because I can't
dance. She goes to a dancing class every Saturday
morning, and Aunt Julia says she may have me go
too after Christmas. I think I should like
dancing, for the sake of the exercise if nothing
else. Oh, how I do long for exercise! Elsie rides
in summer, but her pony is at their country place
on Long Island, and they don't think it worth
while to bring it in to New York. Aunt Julia says
Elsie has so many other things to do in winter she
has no time for riding. What wouldn't I give for
one good canter on Roland! I can't help envying
the girls I see riding in the park, though none of
them look as if they were enjoying it as much as I
should. They all ride side-saddle, and I don't
believe it can be nearly as pleasant as riding
astride, but Aunt Julia told me not to say so,
because it isn't considered the thing to ride
astride here. I saw Beverly Randolph riding in the
park this afternoon, and he really did look as if
he enjoyed it. His home is in Virginia, and he
says the people there are very fond of horses.
Lulu says Mrs. Randolph owns a large plantation,
and I suppose a plantation is something like a
ranch.
"Now I really must stop writing, for my hand is
getting tired, and I have made two big blots on
this page. So good night, Auntie darling. If I
could send all the love that is in my heart, I am
afraid no postman would be able to carry the
letter, it would be so heavy. So you must just
imagine it is there. I am really very happy,
though I can't help feeling homesick sometimes,
especially at night. I am going to work hard, and
try to learn so much this winter that you will all
be proud of me when I come home. I have already
begun counting the weeks; there are just
twenty-eight and a half till the first of June. A
winter does seem a very long time, but this week
has gone by faster than I expected. I will write
to Mother on Sunday, and your next letters ought
to be here by Monday. Letters are the best thing
in the world when one is so far away from home, so
please all write just as often as you can to
"Your own loving
"MARJORIE."