Annie Bolling thinks the enclosed is your handkerchief and while I don't believe it can be, I'm sending it. She certainly is an honest woman! People never return my handkerchiefs, I know!Did you get the scarf all right? I sent it some time ago, meaning to follow it up with a letter; but of course neglected to write the letter! With it I sent two pieces of handiwork given you or Nellat as wedding gifts. It seemed to me they were both worth keeping. I still have the little room next mine filled with Nell's belongings, which I have been imploring her to look over. The time will come for her and Mac to leave Washington and then she'll have a terrible task sorting these things out and disposing of them. I do wish she could face them now and throw them away—for that's what she'll do with them eventually, I know.
Don't faint dead away if you see in the papers that Margaret and I are giving a dinner next Thursday night. How Edith Benham worded it I don't know, but she did. Edith and your father said Margaret might give a dinner to pay back her and my obligations and Margaret very generously insisted on my name being on the invitations. Now we'll read that Mrs. Wilson is revolutionizing the life of the White House and making the family very gay.
I had a very nice letter from Mrs. Garfield yesterday and she tells me you and she are sending out notices of a suffrage meeting. We are having an exhibition of suffrage idiocy just now—as you must have seen in the papers. One or two of the geese—sometimes even six—standing outside each of the north gates all day long, with large yellow banners, on which is printed: “What Mr. President, what will you do for suffrage?” or some other foolish question. I wonder what good they think it will do. They could stand there till time passed and eternity began and they would make no impression on WW. It was good to hear such g satisfactory accounts of the children, in your letter to Edith. I'm so glad they are all right now. Francis ought to be a new child from now on.
Ellen had a touch of ear trouble—indeed, had to have her ears punctured about a week ago; but she's all right now and lively as a cricket. Nell was horribly frightened, poor child, and no wonder, for the baby had to have an anaesthetic. But it's all over now.
Now, sweetest thing, I must go talk to the Auchinclosses, who are spending the night. They and the Malones are to be at the Diplomatic dinner.
Hugs and kisses and lots of love to my beloved Sayres from their adoring