h, it WAS nice to meet somebody of one's own kind! You get so sick of
having everything taken seriously.

That night, after we'd left the house, Harry caught up with us at the
corner on his way to the hotel, and went home with us, and we all
talked until three o'clock in the morning. We simply ate all over the
house--goodness! how hungry we were! At Peter's home it's an unheard-of
thing to eat anything after half-past six--almost a crime, unless it's a
wedding or state reception. We began now with coffee in the dining-room,
and jam and cheese, and ended by gradual stages at hot lobster in the
chafing-dish in the studio--the darky was out all night, as usual.

Then Harry and Peter concluded that it was too late to go to bed at
all--it was really daylight--so they took bath-towels and went down to
the river and had a swim, and Harry slipped back to the house at six
o'clock. He said we'd repeat it all the next night, but of course we
didn't. He's the kind that, as soon as he's promised to do a thing,
feels at once that he doesn't really want to do it.

The next day Peter's Aunt Elizabeth came on the scene, and of course we
stayed away as much as we could. She loves Peter--they all do--but she
hasn't any use for me, and shows it. She thinks I'm perfectly dumb
and stupid. I simply don't exist, and I've never tried to undeceive
her--it's too much trouble. She always wants to tell people how to do
their hair and put on their clothes.

Miss Elizabeth Talbert is a howling swell; she only just endures it
here. I've heard lots of things about her from Bell Pickering, who knows
the Munroes--Lily Talbert, they call her there. She thinks she's fond of
Art, but she really doesn't know the first thing about it--she doesn't
like anything that isn't expensive and elegant and a la mode.

The only time she ever came to see me she actually PICKED her way
around the house when I was showing it to her--there's no other word
to use--just because there was a glass of jelly on the sofa, and
the painting things were all over the studio with Peter's clothes. I
perfectly hated her that day, yet I do love to look at her, and I can
see how she might be terribly nice if you were any one she thought worth
caring for. There have been times when I've seen a look on her face,
like the clear ethereal light beyond the sunset, that just PULLED at me.
She is very fond of Peggy; I know she would never do anything to injure
Peggy.

Poor little Peggy! When