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BLANCHE'S LETTERS.

SOCIETY "WAR-WORKERS."

DEAREST DAPHNE,--The scarcity of paper isn't altogether an unmixed
misfortune, as far as one's correspondence is concerned. Letters that don't
matter, letters from the insignificant and the boresome, simply aren't
answered. For small spur-of-the-moment notes to one's _intimes_ who're not
too far off, there's quite a little feeling for using _slates_. One writes
what one's to say on one's slate (which may be just as dilly a little
affair as you please, with plain or chased silver frame, enamelled monogram
or coronet, and pencil hanging by a little silver chain), and sends it by a
servant. When the note's been read, it's wiped off, the answer written, and
the slate brought back. _Isn't_ that fragrant? I may claim to have set this
fashion. Of course a very _voyant_ slate is not just-so. The
Bullyon-Boundermere woman set up one with a deep, heavily-chased gold
frame, and "B.-B." at the top set with big diamonds. _C'est bien elle!_
She'd used it only half-a-dozen times when it was snatched from her
footwoman, who was taking it to somebody's house, and hasn't been heard of
since!

_People Who Matter_ gave a double-page to illustrating "War-Time
Correspondence Slates of Social Leaders." _My_ slate's there, and Stella
Clackmannan's, and Beryl's and several more. À propos, have you seen the
series of "Well-known War-Workers" they've been having lately in _People
Who Matter_? They're really quite worth while. There's dear Lala
Middleshire in one of those charming "Olga" trench coats (khaki face-cloth
lined self-coloured satin and with big, lovely, gilt-and-enamelled