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Oemler, Marie Conway, 1879-1932

"A Woman Named Smith"

If spurious will publicly gibbet you and
probably burn your house down. Hold southwest room my
arrival.
Alicia laughed, and cuddled those yellow slips.
"I knew this was an enchanted place!" she cried. "Oh, Sophy, it's
working! He's coming, he's coming, and he's the biggest ever, and
he's going to _stay_! Sophy, think of the advertising!"
"He will probably be detestable. Geniuses are generally horrid to
live with. And there will be something the matter with his
digestion; there is always something the matter with their
digestion."
"From swallowing all the flattery shoveled upon them, poor dears,"
Alicia explained charitably. "Don't worry about his digestion: leave
it to Mary Magdalen's waffles. Hooray! Hynds House stock is
booming!"
It was.
From the head of our firm:
_My dear Miss Smith_:
I have your interesting letter and the delightful
photographs, which have so completely charmed Mrs.
Westmacote and me that we have decided it wouldn't be good
business to miss Hynds House on our trip South this year.
Mrs. Westmacote asks if you could also accommodate a cousin
of hers, Miss Emmeline Phelps-Parsons, a lady deeply
interested in the colonial homes of America.


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