Edinborough,
February 14
My dear Emily,
Last Saterday was my birthday. I wish it was your’s too: then we’d be the same ages. A pedlar came to the door. He said he was a cobler and soled doll’s shoes. I was rather frightened of him for there was only Aunt and me in the house, as the maid don’t sleep here. Aunt bought a pair of shoes for my doll. Wasn’t she aimiable? I was in an extasy. I wish you’d come and see her and I, like you did last year.
Your loveing Mabel