expecting any answer. You're living up to your side of the bargain--
I'm being educated--and I suppose you're thinking I'm not living up
to mine!

But, Daddy, it is a hard bargain. It is, really. I'm so awfully lonely.
You are the only person I have to care for, and you are so shadowy.
You're just an imaginary man that I've made up--and probably
the real YOU isn't a bit like my imaginary YOU. But you did once,
when I was ill in the infirmary, send me a message, and now,
when I am feeling awfully forgotten, I get out your card and read
it over.

I don't think I am telling you at all what I started to say,
which was this:

Although my feelings are still hurt, for it is very humiliating
to be picked up and moved about by an arbitrary, peremptory,
unreasonable, omnipotent, invisible Providence, still, when a man
has been as kind and generous and thoughtful as you have heretofore
been towards me, I suppose he has a right to be an arbitrary,
peremptory, unreasonable, invisible Providence if he chooses, and so--
I'll forgive you and be cheerful again. But I still don't enjoy
getting Sallie's letters about the good times they are having in camp!

However--we will draw a veil over that and begin again.

I've been writing and writing this summer; four short stories
finished and sent to four different magazines. So you see I'm
trying to be an author. I have a workroom fixed in a corner of the
attic where Master Jervie used to have his rainy-day playroom.