“Archie’s mother’s, you know. ‘My dear Dorothea (as I suppose I must call you now)—Archibald has informed us of his engagement, and I and the girls (there are five girls, Mr. Carter) hasten to welcome his bride. I am sure Archie will make his wife very happy. He is rather particular (like his dear father), but he has a good heart, and is not fidgety about his meals. Of course we shall be delighted to move out of The Towers at once. I hope we shall see a great deal of you soon. Archie is full of your praises, and we thoroughly trust his taste. Archie—’ It’s all about Archie, you see.”
“Naturally,” said I.
“Well, I don’t know. I suppose I count a little, too. Oh, look here. Here’s Cousin Fred’s, but he’s always so silly. I shan’t read you his.”
“O, just a bit of it,” I pleaded.
“Well, here’s one bit. ‘I suppose I can’t murder him, so I must wish him joy. All I can say is, Dolly, that he’s the luckiest (something I can’t read—either fellow or—devil) I ever heard of. I wonder if you’ve forgotten that evening—‘”
“Well, go on.” For she stopped.
“Oh, there’s nothing else.”
“In fact, you have forgotten the evening?”
“Entirely,” said Miss Dolly, tossing her head.
“But he sends me a love of a bracelet. He can’t possibly pay for it, poor boy.”