"Yours sincerely,
"Julia Ironsides.
"P. S.—I've actually just told mamma—and I'm still her dear, darling, divine Julia!"
Charming as were Barty's remembrances of Düsseldorf, the most charming of all was his remembrance of going aboard the little steamboat bound for Rotterdam, one night at the end of May, with old Mrs. Bletchley, Mrs. Gibson and her daughter, and my sister Ida.
The little boat was crowded; the ladies found what accommodation they could in what served for a ladies' cabin, and expostulated and bribed their best; fortunately for them, no doubt, there were no English on board to bribe against them.
Barty spent the night on deck, supine, with a carpet‑bag for a pillow; we will take the full moon for granted. From Düsseldorf to Rotterdam there is little to see on either side of a Rhine steamboat, except the Rhine—especially at night.
Next day, after breakfast, he made the ladies as comfortable as he could on the after‑deck, and read to them
"'DOES SHE KNOW YOU'RE VERY FOND OF HER?'"