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This is a blistering hot Fourth–In fact, it’s been blistering ever since you left. Two of the worst nights I’ve ever put in in New York2. You are surely in a cool spot today. Not a sign of a yellow stocking anywhere, no more than if you’d come hoseless from France4. I hope they turned up - - - - in your furs, maybe.
Landing in New York in summer was pretty hard on you, but your doing it was very grand for me. I had two splendid days, and I’d looked forward to them for a long while. I’m glad you were sleepy. I had a better chance to observe you when you weren’t shooting my mind off to observe other things, and you seemed to me in such splendid trim, from top to toe. I feel that it is going to stay by you, too, even if you found the domestic machinery in Brookline5 complicated after Provençe6. I tried to write Miss McClung7 a rhapsodical description of your Avignon8 gown, but am conscious that I dismally failed. I never can write about clothes. I intend to get Kronstall’s9 out of the fashion column of a theatre program.
Pray forgive this intense note paper, which might well be Farrar10’s, with a song bird on it. It is the only intensity I can boast of until cooler weather. Only a cicada could write in this heat. But I’m so grateful it didn’t come while you were here, when I was having a glorious time that I quite forgot to realize how the heavy air here must weigh upon you. Since you left, it’s been like being marooned on a naked spit of sand somewhere.
Joy to you, and work, and keep your “good tone.”
Yours W. S. C. Miss Elizabeth Sergeant1 Chocorua3 N.H. NEW YORK N.Y.STAO2 JUL 4 1913 630 PM