What a sweet time we had together. I shall never, never forget it!
O Frank, how good you are to me! And how I hope you won't regret
what you are doing. It is all very well just now, when I am young
and you think that I am pretty. I love that you should think so, but
I am compelled to tell you that it is not really so. I can't imagine
how you came to think it! I suppose it was from seeing me so often
beside papa. If you saw me near Nelly Sheridan, or any other REALLY
pretty girl, you would at once see the difference. It just happens
that you like grey eyes and brown hair, and the other things, but
that does not mean that I am really pretty. I should be so sorry if
there were any misunderstanding about this, and you only found out
when too late. You ought to keep this letter for reference, as papa
always says, and then it will be interesting to you afterwards.

I should like you to see me now--or rather I wouldn't have you see me
for the world. I am so flushed and untidy, for I have been cooking.
Is it not absurd, if you come to think of it, that we girls should be
taught the irregular French verbs, and the geography of China, and
never to cook the simplest thing? It really does seem ridiculous.

But it is never too late to mend, so I went into the kitchen this
morning and made a tart. You can't imagine what a lot of things one
needs even for such a simple thing as that. I thought cook was
joking when she put them all down in front of me. It was like a
conjurer giving his performance. There was an empty bowl, and a bowl
full of sliced apples, and a big board, and a rolling-pin, and eggs,
and butter, and sugar, and cloves, and of course flour. We broke
eggs and put them into a bowl--you can't think what a mess an egg
makes when it misses the bowl. Then we stirred them up with flour