May I not see you? Or at least will you not
send me your photograph? I know I have no right to ask this, but I
would so love to meet one so sympathetic and appreciative of the
great art which is the ideal of my life.
With many, many thanks for your welcome letter, I am,
Very sincerely yours, CHRISTOPHER CAMERON."
"I knew he'd do it!" cried Patty. "I knew he'd fall for that
flattery! Kit's a perfect dear, but he IS vain of his music, and I
don't blame him. He's a wonderful violinist."
"What are you going to do next, Patty?" asked Adele. "Answer that
letter?"
"Sure!" returned Patty; "but I'm not running this thing alone. We
must all help make up the letter. And, Adele, haven't you some
photograph that will be just right to send?"
As soon as they reached home they hunted over Adele's collection of
photographs, and finally found one that Patty declared just right.
It was a picture of one of Adele's cousins, a girl of about sixteen,
whose sweet young face wore an expression so soulful and languishing
that it was almost comical.
"Hester hates that picture," said Adele; "she never looks that way
really,--like a sick calf,--but somehow the photographer managed to
catch that expression.
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