few words, in which Sully joins me.

"Believe me, ever your

"Attached and faithful dog,

[Illustration: Carry

X

his mark]

"F. MOSCHELES, Esq."

* * * * *

And now I come to du Maurier's last letter--the best, as I am sure
every right-minded person will admit. I have kept it "pour la bonne
bouche" (excuse my quoting French. "Will me not of it," as our
neighbours say; there are unassailable precedents for such quoting,
you know--or ought to know). The letter in question speaks of an event
so momentous, that of all events it is the one most worthy to "be
marked with a white, white stone"; and marked it was, if not with a
stone, with satins and laces and a veil and white orange blossoms.

"Come and be introduced to the future Mrs. Kicky," it said. "She
intends to celebrate her 21st birthday by a small dance. There will
be friends and pretty girls, 'en veux tu, en violà.' So rek-lect,
olf'lah, Tuesday, at half-past seven."