I have agreed to a moratorium on photos of Mamie; she contends that I am bored and that they do nothing but amuse her friends in Nashville. So be it (for a while).

Baroness Seitzinger knows how to lure me; she sent this image beckoning me to her home. I simply adore to iron with a drink in my hand.

"Looks like you ladies have found a way to amuse yourselves in the summer heat!" So wrote Countess Bedelia, and how right she is. The oppressive heat this year has put a damper on many events as it is just easier to stay home than swim through the humidity to a club or hotel. So, it seems that we have resorted to picking on each other for amusement, a dangerous activity to be sure. I have therefore planned a little trip to Rhode Island in search of breathable air and old friends; it will also allow me to show Leopoldo just how I got to be the way I am. I don't think he will ever be prepared for Newport, though, and Mrs. Stuyvesant-Fish quipped, "Do you think he is ready to be surrounded by White People?" The question really is, am I? White People are really boring for the most part, but we will be troopers as we camp at the seaside "cottage" of our housemates here, Bob and Terry. Also on tap is a boat trip to Goat Island to visit Alan and Darren and a meeting with that old battle axe, Peter Barry. Alan, who is a private physician to high and mighty, promised to take us to the Pell home on Sunday (and I'm going to twist his arm for a trip to the Slocum's). Poor Mr. Astor; he knows not what he is about to get into.