finished; indeed, I hope it will be the longest serial on record,
one of those charming tales that grow in interest as chapter after
chapter unfolds, until at the end we feel as if we could never part
with the delightful people.

I should be, at this very moment, Mrs. William Beresford, a highly
respectable young matron who painted rather good pictures in her
spinster days, when she was Penelope Hamilton of the great American
working-class, Unlimited; but first Mrs. Beresford's dangerous
illness and then her death, have kept my dear boy a willing prisoner
in Cannes, his heart sadly torn betwixt his love and duty to his
mother and his desire to be with me. The separation is virtually
over now, and we two, alas! have ne'er a mother or a father between
us, so we shall not wait many months before beginning to comfort
each other in good earnest.

Meantime Salemina and Francesca have persuaded me to join their
forces, and Mr. Beresford will follow us to Scotland in a few short
weeks, when we shall have established ourselves in the country.

We are overjoyed at being together again, we three women folk. As I
said before, we know the worst of one another, and the future has no
terrors. We have learned, for example, that--

Francesca does not like an early morning start. Salemina refuses to
arrive late anywhere. Penelope prefers to stay behind and follow
next day.

Francesca scorns to travel third class. So does Salemina, but she
will if urged.