That clinched it. Hiding her surprise as well as she could under an irreproachable bonnet and toupee, Mrs. Milton expressed her readiness to accompany me then and there, and to superintend the disappearance of my coals and marmalade.
Perhaps you have guessed that I propose to spend every Wednesday night at Freshfield's place, and that the complete success of the scheme has been assured by the making of a similar agreement between Freshfield and a person holding corresponding views to those of Mrs. Milton.
Thus Freshfield and I have each secured the full seven days' attendance by a device pleasing to all concerned. After locking up the MELBA and GEORGE ROBEY records on Wednesday mornings and with the knowledge that the piano is past serious injury, I depart for Freshfield's (viâ the Club for lunch) each week with a light heart.
My collaborator is all for keeping this solution of a harassing problem to ourselves. I say "No." The general adoption of such a scheme, with alterations to suit individual cases, would, I think, be a nail in the coffin of Bolshevism in the home.
Mr. Wilson Rubs It In.
"The Echo de Paris says, 'Mr. Wilson believes he can play the rôle of the Popes of the middle ages. In the éclat of his public messages he tries to set peoples against governments.'"—Scots Paper.
"General Monash making an imposing figure on his grey horse, where he rode with General Hobbs and three Brigadiers."—Times.
The R.S.P.C.A. must look into this.