Believe me to be,
My dear Mr. Harding,
Your assured friend,
OBH. SLOPE

The Palace, Monday morning,
20th August, 185--


Mr. Harding neither could nor would believe anything of the sort, and
he thought, moreover, that Mr. Slope was rather impertinent to call
himself by such a name. His assured friend, indeed! How many assured
friends generally fall to the lot of a man in this world? And by what
process are they made? And how much of such process had taken place
as yet between Mr. Harding and Mr. Slope? Mr. Harding could not help
asking himself these questions as he read and re-read the note before
him. He answered it, however, as follows:


DEAR SIR,

I will call at the palace to-morrow at 9:30 A.M. as you
desire.

Truly yours,

S. HARDING

High Street, Barchester, Monday