asked Mr. Hamilton what he thought of him. 'A talking jackass,' was
his only reply, in his most chilling tones.

"I fear I am open to the same imputation.

"Very truly yours,
"Laura F——.

"I should like to know what you want this for; however, happily, I
have put it in a form you can't make much use of."


I was much amused at the way in which he treated gossip about himself.

I told him some stories about him that I had picked up. They related
to a certain absent-mindedness which he was supposed to possess.

"I am afraid they are not true," he said first. "I should welcome any
hint of absence of mind in myself as a sign that the abstract could
exclude the concrete, which is unfortunately not the case with me."
Then, in a moment, he said, "People have no business to tell such
stories. I should not mind their not being true, if they were only
characteristic."

"By which you mean," said a gentleman who was sitting next him, "that
you don't care about veracity, only you can't stand dullness."

"Not at all," said Arthur, quickly. "Veracity is not the question in
gossip at all. It is all hearsay. You have not to judge of the actual
truth of a scandalous story, but you have to judge of the probable