ntrary, are a positive delight
to me. One of the reasons why I should not like to interfere is the
feeling that it might put an end to our correspondence.

Personally I cannot visualize the spectacle of similar familiarity
between any of the major members of our respective households.

I myself passed your man this evening as I was on my way to the
Vicarage, and at the moment he was in mild dalliance with our
housemaid. I say mild because they were only arm-in-arm. On my return
about an hour later I passed George again, and it is true that this
time he was with our parlour-maid, and had his arm round her waist as
you describe.

There is no doubt that the young man has a penchant for my staff, but
so far no Government secrets have reached my ears, and no details of
your personal doings, past, present or future.

"Carry on" is the motto of the day, so why not let well alone? Were
you never a young man?

Ever yours,
HARRY FORDYCE.

Petherton was getting very worked-up, to judge from his reply:--

SIR,--I disapprove of your levity. This is a serious matter to me.
On your own showing George's behaviour is scandalous, and although I
should scarcely expect you to look at the matter in its proper light
I should have thought that even you would have interfered now that
matters have reached such a state. Your attitude is intolerable.

I am well able to protect the Government's secrets, and my movements
could be of little interest even to you, but I do not think the
society of your maids desirable for a young man like George. I
strongly suspect that they are having a bad influence over him. He is
becoming careless in his work.

I accidentally overheard him say, in conversation with the grocer's
man, that he was--to use his own expression--walking out with a Miss
Parsons. Is this either your parlour-maid or housemaid? or is it some
third person?

Yours faithfully,
FREDERICK PETHERTON.

DEAR OLD CHAP (I replied),--Thank you for your cheering letter. I
hope neither of us will say or do anything that would terminate this
exchange of letters, which is keeping me from dwelling too much on the
War.

Miss Parsons is our cook, as worthy a young woman as ever riveted an
apple-dumpling or tossed a custard. She would make George an excellent
wife. Don't worry about the parlour-maid or housemaid. They would, I
am sure, be delighted to be at the wedding.

Yours,
HARRY.

Petherton's reply was prompt, perso