oddly shy about mentioning her name; he would have preferred Elspeth
to mention it: and Elspeth had misgivings that this was so, with the
result that neither could say "Grizel" without wondering what was in
the other's mind. Tommy had written twice to Grizel, the first time
unknown to Elspeth, but that was in the days when the ladies of the
penny numbers were disturbing him, and, against his better judgment
(for well he knew she would never stand it), he had begun his letter
with these mad words: "Dear Little Woman." She did not answer this,
but soon afterwards she wrote to Elspeth, and he was not mentioned in
the letter proper, but it carried a sting in its tail. "P.S.," it said
"How is Sentimental Tommy?"

None but a fiend in human shape could have written thus, and Elspeth
put her protecting arms round her brother. "Now we know what Grizel
is," she said. "I am done with her now."

But when Tommy had got back his wind he said nobly: "I'll call her no
names. If this is how she likes to repay me for--for all my
kindnesses, let her. But, Elspeth, if I have the chance, I shall go on
being good to her just the same."

Elspeth adored him for it, but Grizel would have stamped had she
known. He had that comfort.

The second letter he never posted. It was written a few months before
he became a celebrity, and had very fine things indeed in it, for old
Dr. McQueen, Grizel's dear friend, had just died at his post, and it
was a letter of condolence. While Tommy wrote it he was in a quiver of
genuine emotion, as he was very pleased to feel, and it had a
specially satisfying bit about death, and the world never being the