Dear me, how many kinds of homesickness one may have. When I was away from Lee I was longing for it; now that I am here I love to dream of Mallowbanks. Still, I am glad I am here. There is work awaiting me. In fact, it is piled high, and someone was desperately needed to take hold of it. Lee is bulging with nice visitors with fashionable-looking purses, and they are wild to do things and spend money. They would rather purchase these mountain products than anything else, because they are such quaint souvenirs of this lovely place. But, alas, all is in confusion in the little shop. The weavers have been lazy, the basket-makers must have been wool gathering, the pottery makers have all been getting married—just like Ma Kitchell—and there is, to say the least, the dickens to pay. Mr. and Mrs. Carson had been most eager to have me come back and take up the work, but as you know, there was not a hint from them that they wanted me, because, of course, they would not in any way interfere with me, nor tempt me to return. Anyway, I do not suppose they had the faintest idea that I would do so. But when they found that I was willing and ready to take up the work, they were simply delighted, and now they are doing everything in their power to help my task along. Within two or three weeks I hope to have things running very well. I would like to make a good showing before Christmas. I am staying with my own Carin Carson for the present, because I am not inclined to take the long ride up and down the mountain. It would be too exhausting. Moreover, since I would not be able to help Mother McBirney with the housework, I would very much object to staying there and making her extra trouble. But of course I went up there the day after I arrived. Things are going on quite in the old way with the McBirneys. Except, of course, that Jim is not there, being still at school. Hi Kitchell’s younger brother is a helper for Father McBirney, and seems a fine, willing boy. Father McBirney is pretty well, considering his condition of a year ago, but he will never be quite so strong and nimble as he once was. Mother McBirney is well and happy in her quiet way, and she sends her respects to you. I am asking a few friends for subscriptions for the Industries. It would not become me to place any limit on their generosity, would it? Oh, what an impertinent one I am to badger you, when you have already done so much for me! How am I to thank you for everything? How, above all, am I to express my gratitude to you for your large-minded consideration for my feelings and preferences? I am now a worker in the world of workers, and I am very happy, for a deep need of my being is finding expression. Try to understand as well as to forgive. _With abiding affection_, _Azalea_. * * * * *