I never had a muslin dress before -- nothing but ugly prints and dark woolens . I wish we were rich , like Aunt Margaret . Aunt Margaret laughed when I said this , and declared she would give all her wealth for my youth and beauty and light-heartedness . I am only eighteen and I know I am very merry but I wonder if I am really pretty . It seems to me that I am when I look in Aunt Margaret 's beautiful mirrors . They make me look very different from the old cracked one in my room at home which always twisted my face and turned me green . But Aunt Margaret spoiled her compliment by telling me I look exactly as she did at my age . If I thought I 'd ever look as Aunt Margaret does now , I do n't know what I 'd do . She is so fat and red . June 29 . Last week I went to the garden party and I met a young man called Paul Osborne . He is a young artist from Montreal who is boarding over at Heppoch . He is the handsomest man I have ever seen -- very tall and slender , with dreamy , dark eyes and a pale , clever face . I have not been able to keep from thinking about him ever since , and to-day he came over here and asked if he could paint me . I felt very much flattered and so pleased when Aunt Margaret gave him permission . He says he wants to paint me as `` Spring , '' standing under the poplars where a fine rain of sunshine falls through . I am to wear my blue muslin gown and a wreath of flowers on my hair . He says I have such beautiful hair . He has never seen any of such a real pale gold . Somehow it seems even prettier than ever to me since he praised it .
I had a letter XXXXX home to-day .
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