I won't give in, but I am having an awful time.
So, dearest Claire, do come over and help me. If you could possibly
sail by the _Atlantic_, leaving Southampton on the twenty-fourth of
this month, you would meet a friend of mine whom I think you would
like. His name is Dudley Pickering, and he made a fortune in
automobiles. I expect you have heard of the Pickering automobiles?
Darling Claire, do come, or I know I shall weaken and yield to
Algie's outrageous demands, for, though I would like to hit him
with a brick, I love him dearly.
Your affectionate
POLLY WETHERBY
Claire sank back against the cushioned seat and her eyes filled
with tears of disappointment. Of all the things which would have
chimed in with her discontented mood at that moment a sudden
flight to America was the most alluring. Only one consideration
held her back--she had not the money for her fare.
Polly might have thought of that, she reflected, bitterly. She
took the letter up again and saw that on the last page there was a
postscript--
PS.--I don't know how you are fixed for money, old girl, but if
things are the same with you as in the old days you can't be
rolling. So I have paid for a passage for you with the liner
people this side, and they have cabled their English office, so
you can sail whenever you want to.
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