Back again! Slept out, so heard no Mass. – When I came home yesterday didn’t I find a basket of cigarette-cards and wonderful stamps waiting for me at Mrs. Brooks from poor Julia. She called and we were not there! I must go and see her to-day if she is still here. Went to town for cream, got sour stuff, brought it back and got a fresh supply. I met Markie on my way back, and he invited me for tennis this evening or any other. Made a lovely dinner for Mám, and Fr. Pat came just in time for it. Then I went up to Shandon Street and found my way to Mrs. Lynch’s little cottage. And there was Julia, looking fine and stronger than ever before. We had a long talk, she telling me all her experiences in London and I mine. She has about 6 hats and dresses, says she is thriving financially, and that Mrs. Gayer, if fashionable, is really kind and charming. She insisted on taking me to the pictures, so we came home, had tea, and went. We saw Tom Mix in ‘The Lucky Horseshoe’, the usual cowboy stunt, but I enjoyed it all the same. A Welsh tenor sang. A glorious voice but nothing else.
