As I explained to you, I want her to think she is really earning
her way. Of course I don't want the routine to be too hard for her,
but I do want her to get some idea of what it means to face life
on one's own. If you will pay her ten dollars a week as a beginner,
and deduct her board from that, I will pay you twenty dollars
a week, privately, for your responsibility in caring for her
and keeping your and Mrs. Mifflin's friendly eyes on her.
I'm coming round to the Corn Cob meeting to-morrow night, and we can
make the final arrangements.
Luckily, she is very fond of books, and I really think she
is looking forward to the adventure with much anticipation.
I overheard her saying to one of her friends yesterday that she
was going to do some "literary work" this winter. That's the kind
of nonsense I want her to outgrow. When I hear her say that she's
got a job in a bookstore, I'll know she's cured.
Cordially yours,
GEORGE CHAPMAN.
"Well?" said Roger, as Mrs. Mifflin made no comment. "Don't you
think it will be rather interesting to get a naive young girl's
reactions toward the problems of our tranquil existence?"
"Roger, you blessed innocent!" cried his wife. "Life will no
longer be tranquil with a girl of nineteen round the place.
You may fool yourself, but you can't fool me. A girl of nineteen
doesn't REACT toward things. She explodes. Things don't `react'
anywhere but in Boston and in chemical laboratories. I suppose you
know you're taking a human bombshell into the arsenal?"
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