kissed Mrs. Little, and Mrs. Little and Mrs. Fessenden hugged each other,
and Mr. Fessenden hugged Flora. I began to think that perhaps I might be
included--by mistake--but all my hopes were in vain. I was invited to
come to dinner the next night, however, and then I took my leave, and
drove round for an hour--it seemed like an hour in Fairyland--before I
went back to my hotel.

You must be getting settled in college now--it must have been an awful
wrench to tear yourself away from the Homestead, I know, but you'll have
a great time after you get over the first pangs of separation, I'm sure,
and don't forget that "absence makes the heart grow fonder." I refer, of
course, to Sylvia's heart because you've made it sufficiently plain to
all of us that yours _can't._ Well, the best of luck go with you.

AUSTIN

* * * * *

Southampton,
October 27

DEAR SYLVIA:

I had a feeling in my bones when I woke up this morning that something
extra pleasant was going to happen; and when I got down to breakfast, and
saw, on the top of my pile of mail, a letter postmarked Hamstead, but in
a strange handwriting, I knew that it _had_ happened.

You begin by scolding me because I haven't written mother oftener. I know
I deserve it, and I'll write her from now on, every Sunday, at least; but