Part 15 (1/2)

_From Mrs. Tenterden to Mrs. Montague Mount_.

_July 29th,_ 1901.

DEAREST LILY,

Thanks for yours. My dear child, I have taken your excellent advice and am very glad that I did so. Your plan of campaign has proved most successful. I have had Jack with me for hours in the smoking room at the hotel, where the ladies staying in the hotel as well as the men always resort. It is a large room and affords ample opportunity for a _tete-a-tete_. Of these opportunities I have availed myself to the fullest possible extent. And with what result, you will naturally ask?

With the result, my dear, of making this man absolutely mad about me.

He has become an utter imbecile. _C'est tout dit_. His incoherent raving would only bore you, so, like the kindhearted little person I am, I spare you this infliction. Suffice it to say that he is mine body and soul. I say nothing about his fortune, because that naturally goes with the other two.

Let me thank you sincerely for your wise counsels,

And, believe me, Ever affectionately yours, ALICE.

_Miss Amy Conway to Miss Rose Dacre_.

ALFORD STREET.

THURSDAY.

DEAREST ROSE,

I have been anxiously expecting to hear from you, but you have not sent me a single line. I say ”anxiously,” not that I really feel the least anxiety about you, being perfectly positive, as I am, that all will be right. But, my dearest girl, I am so deeply interested in this affair that, of course, I am anxious to hear how matters are going on. And you are a very naughty child not to have written to me before. Repair your sin of omission as soon as possible, and let me have a full account of all your proceedings.

With much love, Yours ever, AMY.

_From Miss Rose Dacre to Miss Amy Conway,_ 30, _Alford Street, Park Lane_.

YACHT ”MARIE,”

COWES.

_August 2nd_, 1901.

DEAREST AMY,

Pray forgive me for not having written sooner. But as the French say, _tout savoir est tout pardonner._ And having been for many days in the depth of despair, worried out of my life, and half dead with anxiety, I have not really been able to put pen to paper. But now all is changed, and I am able to address you with a light heart.

I am sure, Amy, that you will be longing to know why, and for this reason I will not for a moment leave you a victim to the most terrible ailment that can attack our s.e.x--unsatisfied feminine curiosity.

Two days ago we were still at Southampton, and it was proposed that after lunch we should take a little trip down the river Hamble--a river which runs into Southampton Water. Well, we started--Jack, and a friend of his, Captain Cleland, Mrs. Vivian, Mrs. Tenterden, and myself. All went well for about an hour, when a breeze sprang up which soon developed into half a gale. At least I understood the captain of the yacht to say so. I didn't mind it in the least, but Mrs. Vivian, poor old lady, was dreadfully ill and nervous, and though I did all I could to comfort and rea.s.sure her, it was not of much use. As for Mrs.

Tenterden, she absolutely collapsed. In abject terror she uttered incoherent cries, and no one could make out what she wished to be done.

Jack seemed very upset and tried to soothe her as well as he could, but it was all to no effect, and indeed she once turned on him just like a virago, saying,

”I never wanted to come on your horrid yacht, but you would make me, and see what has happened to me now.”