Rags met
Miss Rolls and her brother in London. And afterward they happened to
be on board our ship, so we chummed up, and Miss Rolls _would_ give up
her melting suite to poor half-dead Mubs and me. What a beast the sea
is! I don't know if I shall ever have the courage to go on the
disgusting old wet thing again. We came here to stay a fortnight, but
it's almost that now, and we couldn't be driven away with a stick.
We're having the time of our lives (I'm learning lots of _creamy_
American slang), and the Rollses are awfully kind. Ena is very nice,
when she doesn't try to talk as if she were English, and quite
handsome, with fine eyes, though not so good as her brother's. And
he--the brother, I mean--is the dearest thing in the shape of a man
you ever saw. Not that he's wonderfully handsome or anything, but, as
they say over here, he's just IT. I don't know what there is about
him, but--well, if I go on, I suppose you'll think I'm being _silly_.
I don't care; you were only a year older than I am now when you told
Rags kindly to go to the dickens. You said he cared only for your
money, poor Rags! That wasn't true. But now (I know you won't tell)
Ena R.
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