"I would respectfully inform you that your dear friend Alice Fletcher is no more--there ain't no such person. She made a noble end in white satin covered with sticky out things, and her stylish aunt's lace curtain. She looked very lovely, what I could see of her through the curtain. My dear Miss Morton, I beseech you when you get married, don't wear a window curtain. Because if you do the groom and the sympathizing friends can't see how hard you are taking it. Alice didn't look mournful when the plaguey thing was removed, but her aunt wept copiously at the train and took all the starch out of Alice's fresh linen collar. And Alice said it would be a sight, if I mussed it. I don't see the connection, do you? Dear Chicken Little, I thought about you all the time I wasn't thinking about Alice, because I remembered a certain other wedding where the dearest small girl in the world introduced me to the dearest big girl in the world. I thought also of the little partner who wrote a certain letter and of many other things--I didn't even forget the baby mice, Chicken Little! Alice says she would like to have your name on her diploma along with the president's because--well, you know why. And they tell us you are Chicken Big now. Thirteen going on, is a frightful age! The worst of it is you can never stop 'going on.' I suppose I need not expect to be asked to any doll parties, but, Jane, wouldn't you--couldn't you, take me fishing when we come? I will promise to be as grown up as possible. "Yours, "Dick." "P. S. Do you still read Mary Jane Holmes?" "Well, it is evident Dick Harding is the same old Dick, all right. Three years and getting married don't seem to have changed him a particle," laughed Marian. "Three years isn't a lifetime," retorted Dr. Morton, "if it does seem 'quite a spell' to young people. Thank heaven, it has changed you, Marian, from a fragile, pale invalid to a hearty, rosy woman! Dr. Allerton knew what he was about when he sent you to a farm to get well." "Yes, I can't be thankful enough, Father Morton, and I don't forget how kind it was of you all to come out so far with us." "Mother is the only one who deserves any thanks--the rest of us were crazy to come. We were tickled to death to have an excuse, eh, Chicken Little?" He tweaked her ear for emphasis. "Oh, I love the farm, Father, only I wish Ernest could go away to school. He's awfully worried for fear you won't feel able to send him to college this fall. He studies every minute when he isn't too tired." Dr. Morton's face grew grave. "Yes, it's time for the boy to have a better chance. I wanted him to go last year, but the drought and the low price of cattle made it impossible. And I don't quite know how it will be this fall yet."