I am a little late, but I can apologise for that. Odd—but I can't find the Amaryllis anywhere! Ask. A seaman on a post says "There was a yacht he see being towed out 'bout 'arf an hour back—he didn't take no partickler notice of her name." No doubt I mistook the moorings—better ask at hotel, perhaps. I do. Waiter says if I am the gentleman by name of Coney, there are two notes for me in Coffee-Room.
Open first—from Mr. Dering.
"Regrets; unforeseen circumstances—compelled to sail at once, and give up pleasure, &c."
Second—from Ethel; there is hope still—or would she write?
"Dear Mr. Coney,—So sorry to go away without seeing you. You might have told me of your engagement yourself, I think—I should have been so interested. Your brother-in-law and his aunt thought it necessary to call and inform us. We are delighted that you are having a pleasanter time here than you gave us to understand last night. With best wishes for all possible happiness," &c.
So that was Alf's revenge—it was a good one! After that, I shake off the sand of Starmouth—for ever!
