Eleanor Randolph Wilson McAdoo to Jessie Woodrow Wilson Sayre

It's just terrible the way I don't even begin to write to you until so very late in the week. This is about as bad as I've ever done isn't it? I wish I had time to write on Sundays! Please excuse pencil and this paper but they are all I have because both my paper and my pen have given out. I have been terribly busy this week, studying like anything—really I have Oh my it is Thursdaynight now and I don't think I will ever get this sent off. What must you think of me! I am so sorry and I hope you aren't worried at not having heard for so long. I have only ten minutes now before the “light bell” rings and so I will have to just scribble a little bit and send it off, though I know you will think it a mighty poor excuse for a letter.
I am going to send your cloak back to you to-morrow if I can possibly find a box high or low to pack it in. That's the reason I haven't sent it before, for mine came at last about a week ago. I am so glad it was found because my conscience has been hurting me ever since Christmas everytime I thought of you up there in the freezing cold without any cloak. It was perfectly dear of you to let me have it and I think that I was just as selfish to take it! Thank you so much for it—I'm afraid that the pockets are a good deal the worse for wear. We haven't been doing anything very much except last Saturday when we had a “bal-foudré”. I went as a man and took Helen Hunter who looked perfectly adorably lovely in her costume with her hair powdered and all.
Another exciting thing has been a very desperate suitor who came out from Caliafornia to see one of the girls—Katherine Henderson—you've heard me speak of her, haven't you? He has been in love with her for about six years and hasn't seen her for about four. They walked around and around the grove together and didn't seem to notice anybody and it was very thrilling. And now she is having and awful time deciding whether she is in love with him or not. It's quite interesting.
I'll have to stop because it's just about to ring. Please excuse this measly little scribble and I'll write you a real letter next time and won't be so terribly late. Good-bye my own darlingsister You don't know how I love, love, love, you. I hope you are well and haven't caught any colds without your coat, you dear, sweetJetty.
With a whole heartful of love and a great big kiss from