How very rude you must think me, dear friend! For several days have passed, and I have not yet thanked you for the books, and for the curiously carven piece of jade, which you assure me will bring me my heart's desire. It lies close in my left hand as I write. I like the cool touch of it. And what a beautiful color it is, like the very heart of Summer! But you should not have robbed yourself of anything so precious. The books are delightful. I wonder if one reads one's self into every book! Your choice of friends is faultless. I have fallen desperately in love with "Paul," already. But "Fiametta" and I are not alike. For where she is brown, I am white, and where her face is oval, mine is pointed, and where her hair is oak-and-gold, mine is just yellow-and-brown! And you know perfectly well that I am no longer ten. Except perhaps when Peter urges me to be. And now I have a Something-Lovely to share with you! Also, it is the main reason why I have not let you hear from me before. In a few days I'm to be carried downstairs--and out under the trees, where an ingenious cot awaits my occupancy. For several days I have been preparing. The Disagreeable Doctor insists, and Father and our own Medicine Man aid and abet him. There's been a large Scandinavian Lady here every day. She possesses strong hands and a cloudy accent. And I am informed that she is to be the Witch who will remove certain fetters from my circulation. I have wished on my talisman that she may be successful. You see, I can't be very sanguine about it, for they tried all manner of things of this sort long ago, and to no avail. But, O Poet, if ever I get out under the trees again! Once there, how my spirit will strain at the leash of my body, to be off and away, over the hills! I've not told you before of our breath-taking plan, lest it not come true! What did you dream, Poet, and will you not tell me the Secret? Gratefully yours, AN IMPATIENT INVALID P.S. Paul, Fiametta, Alice, and other of your intimates, wish to be affectionately remembered. And Peter wants to know if you are by chance a Scout. It is the ambition of his life to attain the age of twelve and his modern knighthood. NEW YORK CITY August 9th Kind Princess: Your letter of the seventh has reached me. It must have crossed mine. I began to feel happier directly I had written. So I must have known that you were writing too! Thank you for absolving me! Your news is good news indeed! But I must know who is to have the joy of carrying you out into the sunshine, which is your birthright. The Old Unpleasant Doctor? The Young and even More Unpleasant Doctor? I think perhaps you had better arrange to have your father play magician! I have had a letter from my mother. There's a message for you in it. Obediently, I quote: