DEAR SIR,—We have received your esteemed order, which shall be promptly executed. Though the Pompadoros will not be despatched to your friend till Christmas, they are now being selected and will be put aside to cool.
We have referred again to our books and find that a box of our celebrated young Cabajos was indeed despatched to your address last year, on the advice of Mr Smithson, of 199 Cornhill. This was why we were so anxious at your long silence. We are, etc.,
ROBINSON & Co.
DEAR OLD SPORT,—I am afraid you misunderstood my last letter. The Pompadoros are for myself; it was a hundred I am Comings which I wanted for my friend Mr Smithson. I must tell you a funny thing about him; as a friend of both of us you will be interested. He collects cigar bands! I have no use for them myself; so, if it isn't troubling you, would you send the Pompadoro bands to him, as the I am Comings haven't any of their own? You might put them on the cigars to save packing. Ever your devoted fellow-clubman.
GOING OUT
Alone, I can get through an At Home with a certain amount of credit. No doubt, I make mistakes; no doubt people look at me and say: "Who is that person sitting all by himself in the corner, and keeping on eating muffins?" but at any rate I can make the function a tolerable one. When, however, I flutter in under the wing of my sister-in-law, with my hair nicely brushed and my tie pulled straight (she having held a review on the doorstep), then it is another matter altogether. It is then that I feel how necessary it is to say the right thing. Beatrice has pretty ears, but they are long-distance ones. We drifted apart immediately but I was sure she was listening.
I found myself introduced to a tall, athletic-looking girl.
"There's a great crowd, isn't there?" I said. "Can I find you some tea, or anything?"
"Oh, please," she said, with a smile.