then twenty-one:

I am still in Scotland, but don't pity me, for I love it more than
anything else in the wide world. If you could only hear the wind
throwing his arm against my window, and sobbing down the glen. I
think I shall never have a Lover I am so fond of as the wind. None
ever serenaded me so divinely. And when I open my window wide and
ask him what he wants, and tell him I am quite ready to elope with
him now--this moment--he only moans and sighs thro' my outblown
hair--and gives me neuralgia.... I read all day, except when I am
out with my Lover, or playing with my little nephew and niece, both
of whom I adore--for they are little poets. We have had a houseful
ever since August, so I am delighted to get a little calm. It is so
dreadful never, never to be alone--and really the housemaid would do
just as well! and yet, whenever I go to my sanctum I am routed out
as if I was of as much use as plums to plum pudding, and either made
to play lawn-tennis or hide-and-seek, or to talk to a young man
whose only idea of the Infinite is the Looking-glass. All these are
the trials that attend the "young lady" of the house. Poor devil!
Forgive strong language--but really my sympathy is deep.

I have, however, some really nice friends here, and am not entirely
discontented. Mr. Gerald Balfour left the other day. He is very
clever--and quite beautiful--like a young god. I wonder if you know
him. I know you know Arthur.... Lionel Tennyson, who was also here
with Gerald Balfour, has a splendid humor--witty and "fin," which is
rare in England. Lord Houghton, Alfred Lyttelton, Godfrey Webb,
George Curzon, the Chesterfields, the Hayters, Mary Gladstone, and a
lot more have been here. I went north, too, to the land of Thule and
was savagely happy. I wore no hat--no gloves--I bathed, fished,