It seems very queer not to have Dorothy Parker here - I hadn’t any idea we’d all miss her so much. I never saw a girl, who made her way more quickly. She came here a stranger in a strange land this year, and has become one of the best-liked girls in the class.
    Gladys Lyall asked me what I was going to do about the semester’s vacation yesterday and I told her I hoped to go to N.Y. although I hadn’t as yet gained your permission to do so. She’s going to Brooklyn herself and wants me to very much. I do hope you’ll consider it. It seems to me that I would stay at the Martha Washington with Dorothy one night at least - and with Emma Dix one night and with Uncle Joe one - I don’t know yet how many days I’ll have free for the examination-schedule hasn’t yet been posted. 
    I have on the tailored waist, suit skirt and heavy blue coat this morning. The waist fits very well, I think. I haven’t worn a stiff collar for so long that it feel rather queer - but it looks neat and that’s half the battle, I suppose.
    There is to be a grand concert-recital by some opera-singer tonight. She is a “colorature” soprano - whatever that means - one of the girls suggested that