One letter I received says, "I will give you a short outline of my life since last April when my troubles began, for which I blame my parents partly, because I was not allowed to have my friends at my home or go out with young men, as the other girls do, with my parents' knowledge of it and because I was kept ignorant of the things I think every girl should know. I was nineteen last March. The men say I am the kind that looks good to men, that they cannot resist. As to this I do not know, but I do know that I always attract their attentions and I am sorry that I do. And yet I crave them. I have for years and I am lonesome without them. I want their friendship and company. I do not know why it is but I am more satisfied with the boys than the girls. Last April a young man, somewhere in the thirties, I think, though he looked much younger, came to our little country town. He was handsome, well educated, finely dressed and always seemed to have plenty of money. I was very unhappy about this time over my troubles at home and because my boy friend, who always had been a friend through all, had for some cause unknown to me stopped writing to me. So I met the young man first in company with friends a couple of times, then he wished to make an appointment to meet me alone and, through the kindness of my friends, I met him out at night several times. On the third night before I half realized what I was doing I had let him ruin me. I had never been told that this was wrong and yet I seemed to know that it was. It worried me, but there was no one I could go to for advice and my friend said that since what was done already could never be undone I might as well keep it up, etc. Having no advice but his, I followed it and for several weeks met him out any and every where and time I could. I knew of the trouble that might come from these meetings and asked my friend about it but he said that everything was all right, that he would tend to that and that nothing would happen. But it did happen. He was going away in a few days and gave me some medicine to take, telling me I was only held back on account of it being the first time. But I didn't believe him and went to a married lady whom I had known but a short time but whom I thought I could trust and who would help me. She invited my friend and me there one evening and talked the matter over with us or rather with him. He stayed over and helped me out of my trouble. But my health has never been the same since. Now, what I want to ask you is this, do you think it would be right for me to marry any man, with him thinking that I am good or innocent? Do men expect that of the women they marry? But I do not wish to marry if I can help it, but I must do something. I will go crazy if I stay here at home from worrying over what I have done and for fear my parents will find it out. What I wish to do is to go away to work, but I have no one to go to and am afraid I cannot resist the