Oh, it WAS nice to meet somebody of one's own kind! You get so sick of
having everything taken seriously.
That night, after we'd left the house, Harry caught up with us at the
corner on his way to the hotel, and went home with us, and we all
talked until three o'clock in the morning. We simply ate all over the
house--goodness! how hungry we were! At Peter's home it's an unheard-of
thing to eat anything after half-past six--almost a crime, unless it's
a wedding or state reception. We began now with coffee in the
dining-room, and jam and cheese, and ended by gradual stages at hot
lobster in the chafing-dish in the studio--the darky was out all night,
as usual.
Then Harry and Peter concluded that it was too late to go to bed at
all--it was really daylight--so they took bath-towels and went down to
the river and had a swim, and Harry slipped back to the house at six
o'clock. He said we'd repeat it all the next night, but of course we
didn't. He's the kind that, as soon as he's promised to do a thing,
feels at once that he doesn't really want to do it.
The next day Peter's Aunt Elizabeth came on the scene, and of course we
stayed away as much as we could. She loves Peter--they all do--but she
hasn't any use for me, and shows it. She thinks I'm perfectly dumb and
stupid. I simply don't exist, and I've never tried to undeceive
her--it's too much trouble.
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