LEAVES
and she simply forgets the existence of people who bore her; but when she goes abroad she looks through her address book and sends them picture postcards with "Souvenir of Venice" or "A Thought from Geneva" written on them, and they appreciate this more than the visits Lena thinks she is obliged to pay them. I have often heard people whom Rita calls "old foodles" say, "How sweet of her to remember me when she is so far away and has so much to do!" But, as Rita sagely remarks, "it passes a wet afternoon, saves you the bother of being civil to them in town, and only costs twopence."
Rita writes lovely letters. She never goes to condole personally with people who are in trouble, because she doesn't know what to say to them, and it gives her the "blues"; but she writes consolatory epistles full of sentiments she has read in books, which are treasured long after Lena's sympathetic words are forgotten. Lena feels so keenly that she loses the power of expressing herself.
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