My dear Mr. McQuesten,

I rather think I should have said "Thank you," before this for the rubber gloves, but I was unwilling to provoke in you the attitude of mind, which leads to your brothers admonition to his too prompt correspondent. You remember--don't you?

It was good of you to bother sending the gloves, but you should just have turned them over to Miss Josephine Smith and let her [?] them part of the kitchen equipment. I was not aware I left an apron, but if I did Mrs. Boyce entirely welcome to it. The light blue one is not mine. Please don't send any thing more after me even if you find my diamond tiara! I surely must have left it because I don't find it in the jewel box!

I am sorry to cumber up your house with all that stationery, but perhaps some time when you are staying at Dufferin Road you will be good enough to put a package in that capacious bag of yours and gradually it will all get there, where some day I shall claim it.

I must confess to a mild regret over one thing I left but you would never in the world guess what it is. It is too foolish for words, but I can't help it if the years have left with me more than my share of sentiment. From the Christmas tree I got a Dover egg-beater, "To make creams for the Parson," and of course that I had to leave behind. However, it does not matter. Someone else will make the creams and the Parson will enjoy them very much I hope.

It was a good thing Mr. Parker hadn't any Valentines, so far as I was concerned, because I am sure the shock of getting a bran [sic] new one all for myself would doubtless have been too much. Thank you for the thought, and for the one you sent. The sentiment is very touching.

How is "my little friend?" Tell me about things. I am so interested.

I think of you today as preparing for your meeting to-night; and on Sunday I wonder what you are preaching about. I miss your Sermons and the prayer meeting addresses. Always with sincerest regards.

Faithfully yours,

Annie I. Robinson