They tell me, Margery, that as a matter of fact your name is Marjorie; and they say that the other reminds them too much of Margarine. That just shows how ignorant they are. I looked up "margarine," in the dictionary, and it is called so because of its "pearly lustre." If that isn't good enough for them, they must be a very proud couple. Anyhow, you are Margery to me: I hope I have a mind above your commonplace Marjories. There are many things that I have to say to you, but I feel quite sure that your mother reads your letters; so perhaps I had better wait till I can see you alone. I want you always to insist on wearing shoes, as a little girl, and not those ghastly thirty-nine-button boots; also on going to one of the very big schools if you go to a boarding school at all. And I want--but I must talk to your father about it. I like to think he is still my ally. Time was when he too knew all about the bringing up of children, and though he has handicapped himself by marrying, yet now and then, when we are alone together, he is almost sensible on the subject. Good-bye. Give my love to your mother. Perhaps we can trust her more than we thought, after all. Ever your loving UNCLE TO HER UNCLE--FROM MARGERY My dear Uncle,--Thank you for your letter. I was just as glad when they told me about _you_! And I said to myself, "I must be very nice to him, because mother and I have been here for years and years simply, and he's quite new." And it's unkind of you to say I kicked, I was only stretching, and one must stretch or one will never grow. I heard nurse tell mother that, and you _know_ you'd like to have a tall niece. I think I shall like you, if you're sure you won't mind my being only a girl. I don't think father minds, although he looks very sad about something every now and then. He came back late from the office the other day, and mother told me he'd done such a lot of work, and was so tired, and I cried all night about it, I was so sorry for him. Mother _is_ a funny person. This morning I did my trick of opening one eye and keeping the other shut, and she got fearfully excited, and called out "Nurse, nurse, what's the matter with baby, she can't open one of her eyes!" And then I simply _had_ to open it, so as I could wink at nurse to show her what a silly mother we had. But I have given up my other joke, of pretending to be dead. I used to do it every night, and she would creep out of bed, and come and listen at my cradle, and.... Well, I'm only a girl, and I shall never go to a public school, but still I know when a joke ceases to be a joke and becomes bad form. So I have given it up. Oh, talking of bad form, some chemists who had read about me in the papers sent me a sample of _tooth_ powder. In rather doubtful taste, I thought....