ovely thing to have said about one?

"We start to London Thursday, and I'll write again from there. With much
love from us all, Lloyd."

The long letter which Lloyd folded and addressed after a careful
re-reading, had not been all written in one day. She had begun it while
waiting for the others to finish dressing one morning, had added a few
pages that afternoon, and finished it the next evening at bedtime.

"Heah is my lettah to Joyce, mothah," she said, as she kissed her good
night. "Won't you look ovah it, please, and see if all the words are
spelled right? I want to send it in the mawnin."

Mrs. Sherman laid the letter aside to attend to later, and forgot it until
long after Lloyd was asleep, and Mr. Sherman had come up-stairs. Then,
seeing it on the table, she glanced rapidly over the neatly written pages.

"I want you to look at this, Jack," she said, presently, handing him the
letter. "It is one of the results of the house party for which I am most
thankful. You remember what a task it always was for Lloyd to write a
letter. She groaned for days whenever she received one, because it had to
be answered. But when Joyce went away she said, 'Now, Lloyd, I know I
shall be homesick for Locust, and I want to hear every single thing that
happens. Don't you dare send me a stingy two-page letter, half of it
apologising for not writing sooner, and half of it promising to do better
next time.

"'Just prop my picture up in front of you and look me in the eyes and
begin to talk. Tell me all the little things that most people leave out;
what he said and she said on the way to the picnic, and how Betty looked
in her daffodil dress, with the sun shining on her brown curls. Write as
if you were making pictures for me, so that when I read I can see
everything you are doing.'

"It was excellent advice, and as Joyce's letters were written in that way,
Lloyd had a good model to copy. Joyce, being an artist, naturally makes
pictures even of her letters. When Betty went away and began sending home
such well-written accounts of her journey, I found that Lloyd's style
improved constantly. She wrote a dear little letter to the Major, last
week, telling all about Hero. I was surprised to see how prettily she
expressed her appreciation of his gift."

Mr. Sherman took the letter and began to read. In two places he corrected
a misspelled word, and here and there supplied missing commas and
quotation marks. There was a gratified smile