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morning chapel. As yet there has been no Sunset Service. Willie leads the Candlelight Service tonight and I am to conduct chapel tomorrow morning. I know that Willie will look perfectly lovely up in the little pulpit in the candlelight. She looks much more like some Egyptian princess than a Kentuckian -- one of the most unusual looking girls I have ever seen. What a happy time we are having here together. As you say, such days of happiness do not come often to us.

[[underlined]] To Mother from Shoals, July 3, 1925: [[/underlined]] This morning Willie and I took a walk out onto the rocks to get some pictures. It was a perfect morning, having warmed up a bit. The sea was a real sapphire and the sky azure and argent (Phi Delta Theta) with little silvery clouds. The lighthouse stood out brilliantly white on its rock in the sea. It really made me long with all my heart for colors to pa int it. The best thing I could do was draw a crude little sketch in my notebook, which I enclose.

[[image: pencil sketch of a lighthouse on a rocky island outcrop with a couple of buildings at its shore]]

[[underlined]] To Mother from Shoals, July 4, 1925: [[/underlined]] Eleanor (Dodson) arrived last evening with her husband. Eleanor is just as lovely as ever. We did not have time for a visit last night, nor yet this morning. We shall have our visit later today. Mr. Rees (Malcolm) was entirely different from my mental picture of him. I had pictured him as a typical Harvard man out of college about two years perhaps -- a rather jaunty, collegiate person in the mid-20s. He is not, to my great satisfaction, like that at all. I should say that he is at least thirty, with hair that stands up like Mr. Steenstrup's (only more of it), a rather large nose, and a weatehrebeaten-looking face -- a look similar to a sailor's. He looks far from collegiate and rah-rah-boyish as I had pictured him for some reason although I could never reconcile that thought and the idea of Eleanor falling in love with such a type. He looks much more like a real man, with real character, the kind I should always have thought of as Eleanor's ideal. .....