still in the running, and learning every day.
Brisbane and I have had our first serious difficulty
over Mrs. R----, who is staying with Mrs. "Bill." There is at
present the most desperate rivalry, and we discuss each
other's chances with great anger. He counts on his
transcontinental knowledge, but my short stories hit very
hard, and he is not in it when I sing "Thy Face Will Lead Me
On" and "When Kerrigan Struck High C." She has a fatal
fondness for Sullivan, which is most unfortunate, as Brisbane
can and does tell her about him by the half hour. Yesterday
we both tried to impress her by riding down in front of the
porch and showing off the horses and ourselves. Brisbane came
off best, though I came off quickest, for my horse put his
foot in a hole and went down on his knees, while I went over
his head like the White Knight in "Alice." I would think
nothing of sliding off a roof now. But I made up for this
mishap by coming back in my grey suit and having it compared
with the picture in The Century. It is a very close fight,
and, while Brisbane is chasing over town for photographs of
Sullivan, I am buying books of verses of which she seems to be
fond. As soon as she gets her divorce one of us is going to
marry her. We don't know which. She is about as beautiful a
woman as I ever saw, and very witty and well-informed, but it
would cost a good deal to keep her in diamonds. She wears
some the Queen gave her, but she wants more.

DICK.


NEW YORK--1890.