Mrs. Tenterden was not present at breakfast, and came on deck very
late. And only imagine, my dear, how she had changed. That beautiful
pink complexion that I had admired so much, and even envied, had
disappeared altogether. Her face was of a greyish hue, and possessed no
shade of pink. Those beautiful pencilled eyebrows seemed to have
strangely altered, and to have unaccountably thinned down. The charming
woman-of-the-world manner had entirely disappeared, and, later on, when
we descended to the cabin, at luncheon time, Mrs. Tenterden cast
furtive and certainly not reassuring glances at the little mirror
hanging there.

I confess that at first I was a wee bit sorry for her, but after all,
this Nemesis was thoroughly deserved, and when I saw the impression
that the metamorphosis had made on Jack--the darling goose can't
conceal his feelings--I must own to having been overjoyed.

"The Enchantress" left for London the same evening, looking in her war
paint quite a different being. But this made no difference, for Jack, I
need scarcely say, had evidently altered his mind.

Since her departure, everything has gone back to its old state. Jack,
poor fickle boy, is devotion itself, and I have not thought proper to
resist his entreaties to consent to an immediate marriage. You will not
blame me, darling, will you?

Ever your affectionate and
Happy friend,
ROSE.