rnwall.

MY DEAR JANE,

Having been here a week, I think it is time I commenced my first letter
to you.

How does it feel to be a person considered pre-eminently suitable to
minister to a mind diseased? Doesn't it give you a sense of being, as it
were, rice pudding, or Brand's essence, or Maltine; something essentially
safe and wholesome? You should have heard how Sir Deryck jumped at you,
as soon as your name was mentioned, tentatively, as my possible
correspondent. I had barely whispered it, when he leapt, and clinched the
matter. I believe "wholesome" was an adjective mentioned. I hope you do
not mind, dear Jane. I must confess, I would sooner be macaroons or
oyster-patties, even at the risk of giving my friends occasional
indigestion. But then I have never gone in for the role of being helpful,
in which you excel. Not that it is a "role" with you, dear Jane. Rather,
it is an essential characteristic. You walk in, and find a hopeless
tangle; gather up the threads in those firm capable hands; deftly sort
and hold them; and, lo, the tangle is over; the skein of life is once
more ready for winding!

Well, there is not much tangle about me just now, thanks to our dear
doctor's most excellent prescription. It was a veritable stroke of
genius, this setting me free from myself. From the first day, the sense
of emancipation was indescribable. I enjoy being addressed as "Ma'am"; I
revel in being without a maid, though it takes me ages to do my hair, and
I have serious thoughts of wearing it in pigtails down my back! When I
remember the poor, harassed, exhausted, society-self I left behind, I
feel like buying a wooden spade and bucket and starting out, all by
myself, to build sand-castles on this delightful shore. I have no one to
play with, for I am certain the Miss Murgatroyds--I am going to tell you
of them--never made sand-castles; no, not even in their infancy, a
century ago! They must always have been the sort of children who wore
white frilled bloomers, poplin frocks, and large leghorn hats with
ribbons tied beneath their excellent little chins, and walked demurely
with their governess--looking shocked at other infants who whooped and
ran. I feel inclined to whoop and run, now; and the Miss Murgatroyds are
quite prepared to look shocked.

But oh, the freedom of being nobody, and of having nothing to think of or
do! And everything I see and hear gives me joy; a lark rising from the
turf, and carolling its little se