The secret correspondence was a complete outlet for Isabelle's imagination, and she pored over the letters her "regular mother" wrote her with utter devotion. She put them away to keep for all her life. They were indeed wonderful letters, full of the fine idealism, the working philosophy that inspired the Benjamins. When there was some misdemeanour, or some fractured rule to be called to Isabelle's attention, it was delicately introduced into the weekly letter, instead of being talked out in the library. Excess vitality got the girl into scrapes sometimes, but as the Benjamins came to understand her better and to love her, they found ways of appealing to her common sense, or her instinct for justice, to which she never failed to respond. Her quick mind had already put her at the head of her classes. The out-of-door life and her enjoyment of everything began to show in her whole bearing. Her face lost its sharp curves, she took on some flesh, her colour was high and her eyes were bright. At last she was coming into her birthright of happy, normal girlhood. The letters home continued to be written to Wally, and once in a long while she had a brief note from him. "What kind of a father have you got?" she inquired of Peggy, one day, after the perusal of one of these epistles. "He is very nice, I think. He was sorry I wasn't a boy, but he always gives me five dollars whenever he sees me. What kind is yours?" "Wally is the nicest person in our family," she said guardedly. "Is your father handsome?" Isabelle hesitated a second. "Yes--very." "Mine isn't. He's fat--awf'ly fat. His head blouses over his collar all round." "You mean his neck." "No, he hasn't any neck--it's the back of his head. Don't you wish your father looked like a Gibson man?" "Mine does." "Really?" "Yes. Very tall and broad-shouldered, with wavy hair, grey eyes, and _wonderful_ teeth! He's very smart looking--oh, very!" "Oh, Isabelle, he must be grand!" ejaculated Peggy. "You ought to see him on a horse. He's just superb," she answered, delighted with her fairy story. "Who is?" asked one of the crowd of six girls who joined them at this moment. "Isabelle's father. Tell them about him, Isabelle," urged Peggy, the adoring. So Isabelle began to enlarge upon the theme of the magnificent being who was her father. When she had finished his portrait Wally was a cross between a Norse Viking and a Greek god, with a few lines by Charles Dana Gibson just to bring him into the realm of reality. The girls were thrilled to hear of this heroic being. They entreated Isabelle to have him visit her, but she assured them that it was out of the question. This superman, this leader of society and Wall Street, could never find time to visit so obscure a spot. Isabelle's father became a legendary figure among them, beautiful and godlike. She shone in the reflected glory of him for weeks. His experiences and adventures were added to _ad infinitum_.