Is it because he is continually brought to her mind at those times when she cannot help allow- ing her reveries to re-enact the scenes in the past that she loves? I can only speculate, but the fact is undoubted that ever since your proposal my interest in you has become insistent; I even go to your home and read all the letters you write to your people.

Judging from your, it must be confessed, somewhat jaundiced correspondence, one can only presume that Shanghai is a terrible place for liver; and you really do write such arrant nonsense about girls. Where is the pain? Has some Shanghai lassie scorned your, I fear, some- what depreciated affections?

Do you remember the day you told me you wished to marry me; and the place, just above Boulter's Lock? I, at least, shall never forget. You certainly propose divinely. I do not remem- ber ever having heard a proposal that was put with more delicate tact, in all my experience.

I confess-now-that the horrid thought came to me that perhaps you had got it all out of a book, but I haven't come across it yet, although I have read heaps and heaps of love stories on purpose; but there! I know you wouldn't be so vulgar.

And oh ! do you remember my refusal? What sentiment! what a giddy altitude of emotion we reached! The delicate tenderness with which I expressed the poignancy of my regret was so kind and touching that the tears came into your poor little eyes, and as for me, I cried and cried-oh, it was lovel~, but so exhausting, Jim, I felt quite faint after it. I do wish men wouldn't do these things-at least not so often.

The Thames is evidently mixed up in some occult way with my horoscope; all my proposals have occurred on its broad and placid bosoml except those two I told you about at the Wel- come Club, and the one at Hurlingham-Bob's, you know.

Poor old Bob! he is settled. You remember Violet-Eaton Square Violet; the girl with the copper beech hair, who has the artistic tempera- ment and plays things on the violin that make people fidget? She used to have unsatisfied longings, and wore horrid art shades of green, and straight up and down things from Liberty's, and low heels, and looked at one more in sorrow than in anger. She annexed him, artistically too, by explaining some psychic problem while sitting on the same settee with him after dinner; which so worked upon Bob's impressionable nature that he grabbed her by the hair in the end, and repeatedly kissed her with such violent emotion that, as she explained to me afterward, she was too thoroughly frightened to refuse him.

As a result of this startling experience, she counselled me most earnestly never to monkey about with a man's soul if he has auburn hair and a red neck.

Whoever wrote about the British being the least emotional of races wasn't a woman, or, if it was a woman who committed that error, she must have been ug-plain.

I think the British as a race are getting more emotional every day; perhaps on account of the entente; anyhow, we are having more trouble with our servants than ever before, though Mrs, Denby says there is not nearly so much bother with her housemaids since you left. Take, for instance, my maid. Of course, she is French, but the butler isn't. Now, to illustrate my meaning. This afternoon, whilst I was arranging flowers in my bedroom, she rushed in and swooned on my pink 6olienne that I was keeping for Violet's wedding and had been examining on a chair.

When I had brought her round with the aid of some brandy, she had the hardihood to explain that mother had just caught her kissing Baxter (Baxter is the butler, you know) in the linen- cupboard.

I told her, of course, that if she couldn't find a more suitable place to amourize than our linen- cupboard she would have to go. Menial love- making is so crude, don't you think?

But to return to Bob. Can you possibly imagine him, after a night at White's, coming slowly and gingerly downstairs, holding the banisters with one clammy h~d and his throb- bing head with the other, and praying fervently that his one boiled egg will be good to him?- do you remember the time he opened the bad one at the Manor-to find Violet in her yellowest green art costume, sitting intently watching him with her unblinking eyes (that always remind me of poached eggs), a t'missionary" expres- sion on her face, and "painful duty" questions on her tongue: Ugh!

Poor, poor old Bob !

I met the Welimore girl last night, and she asked all kinds of questions about you, and appeared to be so interested that I took her away from her men and talked to her about you.

She tells me you treated her awfully badly, so I suppose you must have been good to her. Never be good to a girl, Jim; you will get a fearful name if you are good to girls, and only the bad ones will have anything to do with you, and you know you really ntust think of settling down, now that the scandal about Dolly has blown over and she is married so nicely.

The Welimore girl also told me to tell you that she has not forgotten, and never will. When I said "Forgotten what?" she blushed (she certainly is pretty). Now, I do hope, Jirn, you have not been horrid with the Wellmore girl as well. I am going to draw her out about it, and if I find that you have said anything to her that you did not mean, or meant anything you did not say, I shall tell Mr. Denby how much you really owe the Conduit Street tailor-so there.

Thanks ever so much for the lovely roses, but you mustn't be extravagant, Jim, or else you will never be able to save up enough to make a home for yourself.

Father saw the roses when they arrived, and asked whom they were from. I told him, of course, and he said that be supposed you hadn't got any Lloyd Georges out East. He told me to tell you not to come borne again until the Conservatives get into office, especially if you have saved any money-but I assured him there was no fear of that (your saving money, I mean).

To this lQng letter I shall certainly expect you to send an equally long reply to one who was very nearly your own

GLADYS.

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