I have copied my favourite verse from The Fringed Gentian on the inside of the cover. I will read it over every day and remember my vow to ‘climb the Alpine Path.’ I begin to see that I will have to do a good bit of scrambling, though I once expected, I think, to soar right up to ‘that far-off goal’ on shining wings. Mr. Carpenter has banished that fond dream.
“‘Dig in your toes and hang on with your teeth—that’s the only way,’ he says.
“Last night in bed I thought out some lovely titles for the books I’m going to write in the future—A Lady of High Degree, True to Faith and Vow, Oh, Rare Pale Margaret (I got that from Tennyson), The Caste of Vere de Vere (ditto) and A Kingdom by the Sea.
“Now, if I can only get ideas to match the titles!
“I am writing a story called The House Among the Rowans—also a very good title, I think. But the love talk still bothers me. Everything of the kind I write seems so stiff and silly the minute I write it down that it infuriates me. I asked Dean if he could teach me how to write it properly because he promised long ago that he would, but he said I was too young yet—said it in that mysterious way of his which always seems to convey the idea that there is so much more in his words than the mere sound of them expresses. I wish I could speak so significantly, because it makes you very interesting.
“This evening after school Dean and I began to read The Alhambra over again, sitting on the stone bench in the garden. That book always makes me feel as if I had opened a little door and stepped straight into fairyland.
“‘How I would love to see the Alhambra!’ I said.
“‘We will go to see it sometime—together,’ said Dean.
“‘Oh, that would be lovely’, I cried. ‘Do you think we can ever manage it, Dean?’
“Before Dean could answer I heard Teddy’s whistle in Lofty John’s bush—the dear little whistle of two short high notes and one long low one, that is our signal.
“‘Excuse me—I must go—Teddy’s calling me,’ I said.
