Never buy things that you do not actually want just because they are cheap. Cheap things nearly always have disadvantages, or they would not be cheap. Have few clothes and good ones. Take care of them, and do not ruthlessly crush and rumple them when you have them on, even though you have a good maid to repair your ravages afterwards. I know you will not have to bother about money, but I say all this because I see by the blouse you are wearing in your picture that you have a leaning toward these rubbishy things. Be extremely particular about your foot-covering, too, Caroline. You look as though you had nice feet. Never buy any of the eccentric fashions that you see in every shop window, and on the feet of every little person trotting in the street. Go to one good bootmaker and let him make a study of your foot, and then have the simplest, neatest, and daintiest things made for you. You see, I am writing to one who has ample money for whatever is required, so I am giving her the best advice, because I fear her own taste is not sound--and she is young enough to learn! If you were a poor girl, Caroline, coming out in society on the narrowest means, I would send you all sorts of hints how to arrange and manage to look sweet and lovely upon a very small sum. It is not that all cheap things are ugly, but, with a faulty taste and a large allowance, it is wiser for our end that you should go only to the best shops. I implore you, Caroline, if the instinct of personal distinction does not come naturally to you, to cultivate it by observation. Every time you go out observe what women look the nicest, and what makes them achieve this effect. Examine your own little face, with its blue eyes and black hair, and try to imagine which of the styles would suit you best and make you look the least ordinary. You have probably never thought of these things, and have just drifted on with other school-girls until you present the mass of incongruities your friend depicted in the drawing of you. I am extremely grateful that you have sent me this sketch now, when it is not too late, and we have still some months before us to alter matters. And your letter in answer to my first one shows me that you have a charming nature, and will understand this which I now write and take it as it is meant. Exaggeration is one of youth’s faults, and easily corrected and trained. And now we can begin about marriage. But, as the post is going, I shall not be able to say all that I want to in this letter.