“You’ll have to run away, Harry,” her father said, sadly. And at twenty-two Harrietta ran. Her objective was New York. Her father did not burden her with advice. He credited her with the intelligence she possessed, but he did overlook her emotionalism, which was where he made his mistake. Just before she left he said: “Now listen, Harry. You’re a good-looking girl, and young. You’ll keep your looks for a long time. You’re not the kind of blonde who’ll get wishy-washy or fat. You’ve got quite a good deal of brunette in you. It crops out in your voice. It’ll help preserve your looks. Don’t marry the first man who asks you or the first man who says he’ll die if you don’t. You’ve got lots of time.”

That kind of advice is a good thing for