I ought to be a
happy girl, and I am.
Only Tony Luttrell troubles me, he is so quiet for him; and when he
walked home with me, he was as gentle and affectionate to me as if I
had been sick. Could something be the matter with me and I not know
it? I felt like I did when the secret was first stolen two weeks ago,
though Roxanne and the Idol seem to have forgotten all about it and
nobody else knows.
There is such a lovely moon out over the garden that I can't put out
the light and go to bed, though I saw Roxanne put hers out a half-hour
ago. I wonder why I ever started a record of myself and my friends
like I am doing? But I'm glad I did; for as I turn each leaf of you,
leather Louise, things seem to get brighter and happier for me, and as
I look at all these clean sheets in the future I wonder what I can
find to make them as lovely as the happenings on the others have been.
I'm thankful for the air that makes Mother sleep, and for the moral
surroundings for Father, and for the loving-kindness of my
fellow-men--girls and boys--to me. Yes, I realize that being beloved
is a novelty to me, but I know better than to think it will ever wear
off--the pleasures of it, I mean.
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