Dart hints at the difficult content of his letter when he draws a long-necked turtle at the top, with the following caption:  Me, with my neck stuck out. I still don’t know whether I should mail this or not.

He says he is so despondent himself that maybe he shouldn’t be writing tonight, but he got Dot’s letter about the accusations of selfishness made against her and decided that maybe he’s not so bad off after all.

Although he doesn’t like to take sides, especially when his own house is not in perfect order, he feels compelled to add his penny’s worth. From the way she described the incident, he feels strongly that she was unfairly accused. He doesn’t understand why people act so badly at times, and he’s tried for a long time to understand what’s going on between Dot and her mother that leads to such blow-ups.

“After all the helpful things you do for people, a remark like the one you said your mother made was certainly thoughtless, inconsiderate and (pardon me) idiotic. How can your mother be so short-sighted? Is she compensating in some way for not wanting to help herself? The very idea of thinking you selfish because you’d be late to the Rucquois’ house on school nights! I probably wouldn’t have done it, but I’d surely have been tempted to tell ’em to take a long swim in the Sound with that sort of guff.”

“For a college graduate, sometimes your mother shows surprisingly little sense. She seems to say such things in front of company a great deal, doesn’t she? How does she expect you to be a balanced or emotionally stable individual when she keeps throwing that stuff at you?”

He wonders if she could cry on her father’s shoulder, since she obviously holds him in high regard. He must be an understanding person and she should be able to talk things over with him.

He’s bewildered by what he calls the “active rejection” her mother has subjected her to. He’s hurt by the way she’s been “packed and pushed around” all her life. He refers to her summers in Maine and then Andrews School all the way in Willoughby, Ohio. His letter takes a surprising turn at this point when he refers to Dot as unbalanced because of the way she’s been treated. He says he doesn’t expect marriage to change that, because that’s not the role of marriage, but maybe a change in environment would cause her instability to vanish. “I’m hoping for that, because with the help of God, I hope to understand you better than your mother does.”

Then he tells her of a time when she impressed him as being childishly selfish. It was while they were having dinner at The Flume. She wanted his attention, so she started making sounds and speaking baby talk. She even pinched him repeatedly until he could no longer ignore her. “I got pretty disgusted then, and you knew it. Can’t you try and break that habit of acting like a six-year-old whenever you want something? It’s not becoming to an adult. I have an idea you do such things because you, yourself cannot resist the pleas of a six-year-old (or a three-year-old) who uses such tactics. Please remember, Dot, that kids have to grow up. We’d get awfully tired of them if they stayed between three and six for 20 years.”

Not knowing when to quit, her reminds her that she likes to torment him in public, just as her mother torments her. He wonders if she can stop doing that, or would she learn faster if he poked back at her. Otherwise, he just lets it simmer until it comes out in words that could hurt them both. He wraps up with an insulting question: Oh, Dottie, is there any way I can help you grow up?

I must confess to doing a slow burn here. She comes to him in a vulnerable state to share a painful episode between her mother and herself. While he acknowledges that her mother is in the wrong in this instance, he cannot keep from kicking her when she’s down! His pop-psychology and self-righteousness is not what she really needs right now. And he talks to her of “growing up” when he’s living rent-free with destitute parents, whining occasionally about having to cook some of his own meals and not recognizing that his exhausted mother is still changing the sheets on his bed! He hangs with friends and plays with trains, expecting some kind of accolades when he helps out at a church gathering. Just a bit self-centered, perhaps? It’s a good thing Dot had the blind love to look past his transgressions and the patience to live with him while he matured into the more thoughtful being that I knew as my father! Sometimes, I think Dot was a 20-year-old saint!

He begs her forgiveness if he has overstepped in this letter and then tells her he’s grateful he had someone else’s troubles to stew over instead of just his own. He admits that tonight he has cried until his eyes are red over his father’s disconnect from reality. “…waiting for his ship to come in when he hasn’t even sent one out” Dart, Sr. realizes that he may never work again and that he’ll never be able to repay the money he borrowed from his son. Dart realizes he must begin to pay board next month, even if he must hide the fact from his father, but he sees no way he’ll reach the $300 savings goal by June.

He feels nearly as distraught as is father.

#          #          #

Dot’s letter must be brief because she needs to make up the shorthand that she missed last night. It’s getting more complicated, but she still enjoys it. “Remember me if you’re looking for a competent secretary in a few years.”

She thanks Dart for the clipping he sent her about two girls from Andrews School. (Engagement announcement?) She remembers Dorothy Fitzgerald as the girl who was expelled from the school after she was caught smoking.

It sounds to her like Homer went all out to make a great RR meeting. She’s so happy that he’s agreed to be in their wedding.

She hopes Dart will be able to convince his father to go on that train outing next week. She’s sure a recreational trip like that would improve his mood.

How nice that he sat in the park and talked with those kids. She’s known very few children between the ages of 8 and 15 who are in favor of siblings, but she agrees that she and Dart should strive for harmony in their home.

“You’ve told me several times that I frighten you.I certainly have no desire to do so. What’s that about? Are you afraid I’ve been bewitched by the devil?

As much fun as it’s been writing to him, she’s tired and must sleep.