first letter she read aloud to her father, and they both
laughed at it, it was so Jarvis-like.

"Dear Bambi," he wrote, "I am in this vile cesspool of humanity again,
and I feel like a drowning gnat. I did not go to the club, as you told
me to, because I thought I could live more economically if I took a room
somewhere and 'ate around,' I left my bag at the station, while I went
to an address given me by a young man I met on the train. He said it was
plain but clean. He told me some experiences he had had in boarding and
lodging houses. They were awful! This place is an old three-story house,
of the fiendish mid-Victorian brand--dark halls, high ceilings, and
marble mantels. It seemed clean, so I took a room, almost as large as
your linen closet, where I shall spend the few days I am here. My room
has a court outlook, and was hotter than Tophet last night, but of
course you expect to be hot in summer.

"I went to see Miss Harper, at the time appointed, this morning. She
lives up Riverside Drive. She is a pleasant woman, who seems to know
what she wants. She thinks that if I write a new third act, and change
some things in the second act, Mr. Parke might produce it. I defended
the present form, and tried to show her that the changes she wants will
weaken the message of the play. She says she doesn't care a fig for my
message. She wants a good part. My impulse was to take my work and
leave, but I remembered how important this chance seemed to you, so I
swallowed my pride, though it choked me, and promised to make a scenario
of the changes, to submit at once. I may have to stay on a few days to
do things over as she wants me to do. The play is ruined for
me, already.

"I suppose it is cool and quiet where you are. The noise and heat are
terrible here. I forgot to say that I have to hurry with 'Success,'
because the lady is going to Europe in a fortnight, and insists it must
be finished by that time. I hope she won't crack the whip. It makes me
nervous. I am such a new trained bear.

"I'd rather argue with the Professor to-night than be here, or even talk
with you. I wish you didn't want me to be a success, Bambi. Couldn't you
let me off? My regards to you both. Tell Ardelia that nobody in New York
knows anything about cooking. There seem to be thousands of people
eating around, and oh, such food! Good night.

"JARVIS."

"He is homesick," said the Professor, as Bambi finished a