Much haste. Yours as ever.
Enderby.
KINDSCH GEWORDEN.
(From Enderby to Cuey-na-Gael)
Dear Cuey,
I’ve just been at the Doelen Hotel—and the Macs are gone! Very sudden I must say. I suppose Kathleen has got tired of Holland; or is she trying to avoid van Leeuwen?
You see MacNamara mère had written me a friendly little note from Kilkenny, telling me that the Doctor—as she always calls her husband—had got a trifle absent-minded since his deafness became troublesome, and would I look him up occasionally during his stay in the Hague, and give him some advice about the Rhine.
Well, when I reached Vieux Doelen, the birds were flown. Gone at six o’clock, I was told—the three of them—to Cologne! Quick work, I thought; so I made a bee-line for O’Neill’s. He surely would know about this sudden departure.
And in any case I wanted to get a glimpse of his new mysterious studies.
Just fancy! The landlady met me at the door with tears in her eyes.
A ROMMEL.