Eleanor Randolph Wilson McAdoo to Jessie Woodrow Wilson Sayre

I haven't treated you right at all, I know, but I didn't realize that you wouldn't be there to read my letter to Mother and so I haven't written until now. Do forgive me dearest. I won't ever do so again. I was so glad to get your sweet letter and to hear that you had arrived safely at Baltimore.
Oh Detty, how I wish that we were both safely back at home again with each other instead of so far away. But I musn't let my Sunday afternoon and evening homesick feelings run away with me. I am actually writing this to you on Sunday afternoon—would you believe it? But I couldn't go down to Aunt Annies to dinner because it has been a miserable, rainy day and I have a pretty bad cold. I have lost my voice entirely—can't speak above a whisper or even laugh out loud, and it makes me feel so silly. I don't feel badly any other way so I go around as usually and that makes it all the funnier. I have to explain to about a “million dozen” people why it is that I go about conversing in a whisper. It will probably be better to-morrow—I certainly hope so. What a fine time you must have had at the Senior reception and how exciting to have spent the evening with the great McCormick! I wish that I could have been there too. I must tell you about my exciting? journey. I got on the train at Princeton junction and went into the parlour car and asked sweetly for a seat to Baltimore but was informed to my great sorrow that the train didn't go any farther than Philadelphia. The pullman conductor, who was very young—(evidently) then took pity on my lonely condition and ensconcing himself in the next chair talked pleasantly to me almost all the way to Philadelphia. It made me mad because I was homesick and wanted to be alone. At West Philadelphia I changed and found my way downstairs to the funny little underground station and waited half an hour for the Baltimore train. When it came I couldn't get a seat on the pullman so I went into the crowded day coach and sat down with a rather nice looking woman—a very tall angular old maid. We began to talk almost immediately and I soon found out that she had been up at Muskoka and had stayed at Judd Haven the same summer that we were last there. So we had quite an animated conversation until we got to Baltimore. There Will met me and was really very nice. Cousin Margaret was still there and she was just perfectly dear to me. I got perfectly crazy about her all over again. We had a swell dinner with ice-cream and cake!! in honor of a friend of Miss Nan Beddingers who stopped over for a little while to see her on his way to Philadelphia. There were four men and four ladies and it was quite swell, very unlike anything at the Hoyts that I have been at. Cousin Margaret put me to bed—that is came in and tucked me in and kissed me goodnight and put out the light—so that I felt quite comforted and happy—and in the morning waked me up and got my breakfast and bid me a fond farewell. Will took me to the station and kissed me goodbye before all the people!! I was furious. The minute I got on the train at Baltimore I heard some one say, “Why, helloNell!” and there was Miss Fenner the art teacher, who is just as nice and jolly as she can be—I certainly was glad to see her because I hate so much to make that change at Washington by myself.—I have to stop and dress for chapel—will continue my narration after supper. Here it is—Monday and I did so want to get this off yesterday but it is simply impossible to write Sunday night as we have “Muse” board meetings and chapter meetings until it is bedtime and they make us go to bed at half past nine on Sundays. Well, to continue—at Washington we met another S.M.S. teacher and at Alexandria two more and then at Richmond still yetagainanother!! So little Nell went down to Raleigh escorted by five teachers. So you see I wasn't exactly without company or lonely any of the way. We were two hours late but Mr. Jay counted it on time, for a wonder,. I certainly was glad to see all the girls. They were most of them here already and we had a nice, hilarious time to keep from getting homesick. That night I got a letter which made me oh so happy. It was from one of our old girls, and she told me that she had written to Helen's sister and to Helen herself and that Helen and her sister had talked it all over together during the holidays and Helen at had at last changed her mind and decided to become and A K ?! I was so happy and am so happy that I don't know what to do, and she is just a changed person and as happy and sweet as she can be. We are all so delighted. And it wasn't weak mindedness, either, Detty, because the child had misunderstood her sisters' feelings and hadn't realized what she had done. Isn't it grand! There is nothing else very exciting to tell you and I'm afraid I must stop and write to Mother. I have been terribly homesick the last two or three days and oh how I wish I could see you my own darling, sweetestJetty. I love, love, love you more than you can ever know and oh I can't bear to think of the five months (almost) ahead of us before we go home again, or before we see each-other. Aunt Anniehas had is pretty well and Annie has had tonsilitis but is perfectly well now and tho' not allowed to come to school—for a long time yet—has been to one or two dances—staying up most of the night!! Isn't it ridiculous?Good-bye my sweetest sister. Do keep well and don't work too hard or get the grippe or typhoid fever or anything else.With all the love my heart can hold and more for my Detty from