152 HARK FORRARD! 



satisfied. First he read it once, then he said, 

 ' Bless my soul ! ' then he raced madly up and 

 down the room, then he read it again, then he 

 threw himself into the recesses of his biggest 

 arm-chair, from which after more ' Bless my 

 souls ! ' he emerged, only to read the letter a 

 third time. However, we won't keep the reader 

 anything like as long in suspense as he kept 

 us, but will proceed to give the letter in extenso. 

 It was as follows : — 



* Auburn : Thursday, April 10. 

 ' Dearest Alfred, — I always told you what 

 idiots you men were where woman was con- 

 cerned, and I really think you get worse and 

 worse year by year, or is it that we get cleverer 

 and see your inanities more plainly ? Anyhow, 

 you and Mr. Miller have made the most lovely 

 mess of it that I ever saw. So there ! [What 

 the deuce have we done now ?] You remember 

 that you told me that you proposed to Miss 

 Lancelot the night you landed at New York, 

 and that she refused you, and you also told ma 



