One thing is certain. I must see the play again, and judge
it with a criticle eye. _If it is worth saving, it must be
saved_.
JANUARY 16TH. Is it only a day since I saw you, Dear Dairy?
Can so much have happened in the single lapse of a few hours? I
look in my mirror, and I look much as before, only with perhaps
a touch of paller. Who would not be pale?
I have seen _him_ again, and there is no longer any doubt
in my heart. Page Beresford is atractive, and if it were not for
circumstances as they are I would not anser for the
consequences. But things _are_ as they are. There is no changing
that. And I have reid my own heart.
I am not fickel. On the contrary, I am true as steal.
I have put his Picture under my mattress, and have given
Jane my gold cuff pins to say nothing when she makes my bed. And
now, with the house full of People downstairs acting in a
flippent and noisy maner, I shall record how it all happened.
My finantial condition was not improved this morning,
father having not returned. But I knew that I must see the Play,
as mentioned above, even if it became necesary to borow from
Hannah.
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