It’s Friday afternoon when Dot writes this letter, telling Dart that since she’ll see him before he sees this letter, she won’t write anything important. Naturally, she adds the little self-deprecating jibe that she never writes anything important.

“It’s now about 4:00 and all but two of the kids have gone home. They all started out with good intentions of staying over the weekend, but at the same time all decided too many people were going to stay to warrant very effective study. The result: Here I sit in almost complete solitude, ready to delve into my books with vigor and learn all there is to know about everything. (Wonder how long this mood will last. Probably about as long as it takes me to get my books assembled.)”

She’s not thrilled with her future class schedule because it keeps her busy until 4:00 every afternoon. That’s the only time she could get a typing class, and she’s determined to learn how to type.

“My letters have certainly become short, sweet, and to the point, or rather, pointless. But, as I’ve told you, I’m a bit busy. Every minute I spend doing something besides studying gives me a guilty conscience. If I didn’t love you so much, it wouldn’t bother me.”

Because the weekend is upon us and these kids will be together, there will be no letters until the 11th when they each weigh in briefly. See you then.