But now I know you will be _dying_ to hear about my hats;
for you always say that the hat _makes_ the costume; and so
it _does_! Well, my dearest, I have _one_ Redfern hat, and
_only_ one. Mamma says I cannot expect to have more until I
come out, which is _bitter_. However, this one is a
_beauty_, and yet cost _only_ thirty dollars. It goes well
with nearly all my dresses, and is _immensely_ becoming, all
the girls say: very high, with long pointed wings and stiff
bows. _Simple_, my dear, doesn't _express_ it! You know I
LOVE simplicity; but it is _Redferny_ to a
_degree_, and _everybody_ has noticed it.
Well, my dearest Queen, here am I running on about myself,
as if I were not actually EXPIRING to hear about
you. What my feelings were when I called at your house on
that _fatal Tuesday_ and was told that you had gone to spend
the summer on a _farm_ in the _depths_ of the country,
passes my _power_ to tell. I could not ask your mother many
questions, for you know I am always a little bit
AFRAID of her, though she is _perfectly lovely_ to
me! She was very quiet and sweet, _as_ _usual_, and spoke
as if it were the most _natural_ thing in the _world_ for a
brilliant society girl (for that is what you _are_, Hilda,
even though you are only a school-girl; and you
NEVER can be anything else!) to spend her summer in
a wretched farm-house, among _pigs_ and _cows_ and dreadful
ignorant people.
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