spent on tuck. I want to be like Maltby in "The Soul of Anthony
Carrington" when I grow up.

_Your sincere reader_,
P. A. Dunstable.

It was a little unfortunate, perhaps, that he selected Maltby as his
ideal character. That gentleman was considered by critics a masterly
portrait of the cynical _roue_. But it was the only name he
remembered.

"Hot stuff!" said Dunstable to himself, as he closed the envelope.

"Little beast!" said Mr. Watson to himself as he opened it. It arrived
by the morning post, and he never felt really himself till after
breakfast.

"Here, Morrison," he said to his secretary, later in the morning:
"just answer this, will you? The usual thing--thanks and most deeply
grateful, y'know."

Next day the following was included in Dunstable's correspondence:

Mr. Montagu Watson presents his compliments to Mr. P. A. Dunstable,
and begs to thank him for all the kind things he says about his
work in his letter of the 18th inst., for which he is deeply grateful.

"Foiled!" said Dunstable, and went off to Seymour's to see his friend
Linton.