From the Dean of Marchester to Mrs. Morton.
DEAR MRS. MORTON,—I desire to thank you for three most agreeable days spent in congenial company. You have indeed mastered the secret of making your guests feel at home, and Dockington even in war-time is still Dockington. Pray give my warm regards to Mr. Morton and remember me suitably to the dear children. I wish they wouldn't keep on growing up as they do; childhood is so delightful.
I find to my great regret that by some inexplicable mistake I took away with me an umbrella that is not mine. I am sending it back to you, and shall be deeply beholden to you if you will pack up and send to me the one I left. It is an old one, recognisable by its cane handle (crook) and an indiarubber ring round the shaft. Pray accept my apologies for the trouble I am giving you.
Yours very sincerely,
CHARLES MELDEW.
No. III.
From Brigadier-General Barton to his Sister, Mrs. Morton.
DEAR MARY,—You gave me a capital time. There's a slight difference between Dockington and the trenches. I'm not as a rule a great performer with clergymen, but I liked your Dean. By the way, when I dashed off your man put somebody else's umbrella in with me, instead of my own, which is a natty specimen. The one I've got is an old gamp with a stout indiarubber ring to it. I haven't time to send it back. Every moment is taken up, as I cross to France to-night. Besides, how can you pack such a thing as an umbrella? It's much too long. Keep mine till we meet again. Best love to Harry and the kids.
Ever yours,
TOM.