second thoughts, I will!

Jack's getting better splendidly. I can't say he's getting _well_, for
that will take a long time yet, I'm sorry to--but no, to be an Honest
Injun, I'm _not_ sorry. I'm glad--_glad_! He's done his "bit"--quite a
large bit--for his country, and if his bones and muscles were knitting
as rapidly as I knit socks for soldiers, he would insist on rushing back
to do another bit. Of course he wouldn't have consented to come over
here, even for the three months I've made him (figuratively speaking)
"sign on for," if the doctors hadn't all said he'd be a crock for
months. Even he has to admit that he may as well crock in America as
anywhere else; and I've persuaded him that I can't possibly decide what
to do with the place Cousin John Randolph Payton left me on Long Island
without his expert advice. It may be the first time I was ever unable to
decide a thing by myself, but there _must_ be a first time, you know.
And I'm simply purring with joy to have Jack at my mercy like this,
after all I went through with him at the front. We shall celebrate a
wedding day presently. Ten years married, and I adore Jack just ten
times more than I did the day I exchanged a Lightning Conductor for a
husband.

He does look _too_ interesting since he was wounded! All the girls gaze
at him as if he were a matinee idol or a moving-picture star, and
naturally they don't think I'm worthy of him in the least--an opinion in
which I agree. Luckily, _he_ doesn't. I believe he admires me as much as
I do him. And really, I'm not so bad to look at, I notice, now I've
begun to live again and don't need to worry over Jack every instant. I
had feared it might be necessary to own up to twenty-nine, only two
years short of my real age, which would be so wasteful. But thank
goodness, I see now I can safely retreat in good order back to
twenty-five, and stay there for some time to come. I always did feel
that if girl or woman found a nice, suitable age, she ought to stick to
it!

That's all about us, I think. So, speaking of girls, I'll tell you about
the one I mentioned. I want to tell you, because Jack and I are both
passionately interested and perhaps a little curious. Consequently I
expect her fate and ours, as the palmists say, will be mixed together
while we live on Long Island. In that case, she's sure to be served up
to you toasted, iced, sugared, and spiced, in future letters, so she may
as well be introduced to you now: "The C