Your kindly note was among a number which I put into my pocket at the
postoffice and forgot until last evening when I returned from Oakland.
(I dared remain up there only a few hours, and the visit did me no
good.)
Of course I should have known that your good heart would prompt the
wish to hear from your patient, but I fear I was a trifle misanthropic
all last week, and indisposed to communicate with my species.
I came here on Monday of last week, and the change has done me good. I
have no asthma and am slowly getting back my strength.
Leigh and Ina Peterson passed Sunday with me, and Leigh recounted his
adventures in the mountains. I had been greatly worried about him; it
seems there was abundant reason. The next time he comes I wish he
would bring you. It is lovely down here. Perhaps you and Katie can
come some time, and I'll drive you all over the valley--if you care to
drive.
If I continue well I shall remain here or hereabout; if not I don't
know where I shall go. Probably into the Santa Cruz mountains or to
Gilroy. If I could have my way I'd live at Piedmont.
Do you know I lost Pin the Reptile? I brought him along in my bicycle
bag (I came the latter half of the way bike-back) and the ungrateful
scoundrel wormed himself out and took to the weeds just before we got
to San Jose. So I've nothing to lavish my second-childhoodish
affection upon--nothing but just myself.
My permanent address is Oakland, as usual, but _you_ may address me
here at San Jose if you will be so good as to address me anywhere.
Please do, and tell me of your triumphs and trials at the Conservatory
of Music. I do fervently hope it may prove a means of prosperity to
you, for, behold, you are The Only Girl in the World Who Merits
Prosperity!
Please give my friendly regards to your people; and so--Heaven be good
to you.