e troubling you with details of the
affair, which can't interest you as it does me. Suffice it to say it's a
very fine place, and there's something queer about the ownership which,
as it happens, my detectives are at this very time trying to get at the
root of. I've never ceased to feel that I have been defrauded. I suspect
Storm heard something of the story from Moncourt, and put him up to
arranging the "surprise" more to annoy me than to please any one else.
Well, he scored, I can't deny. But the man laughs best who laughs last,
you know, and it's my turn now. I got my chance at Piping Rock, as I
expected; and as I shan't arrive at Kidd's Pines with the others, I am
writing this to put you on to the situation; also to acknowledge your
telegram. It was nice of you to send it like that, the minute you got my
scolding letter from Easthampton. I'm sorry I was so severe, though I
had some excuse to be cross. I forgive you freely, now things are
turning out a little better, and I ask you to do the same with me.

I am writing, as before, in a hurry, for I have to go to New York on
important business. My own car has been put to rights, and I am
expecting it to turn up at any minute. I shall post this, express, on
the way to town.

Well, the little lady played me a trick day before yesterday. Watch out
for her, my friend! She looks as innocent as a Christmas card angel, but
she's got something of the pussy cat in her composition. Not that I like
her the less for that. It's more exciting. The only way is, to know what
one may have to expect, and be ready for emergencies. She may try to
make trouble for _you_ in a certain direction, so hurry up and fix
things! But so far as I'm concerned, it seems as if I'd got her in hand
since last night.

The trick she played was to send me off, driving her beastly
Grayles-Grice, and carting the Goodrich family round the country, while
she and Peter Storm spooned in an imitation Italian garden. I hadn't a
notion the girl meant to stay behind till I was in the car with the
wheel in my hand. The Goodrich lot were in, too. One of them wanted to
know what we were waiting for? I said, "For Miss Moore." "Oh, she isn't
coming!" remarked the gigantic young female. "She's got letters to
write."

Letters be blighted! It took all my _noblesse oblige_ not to step out of
the automobile and refuse to stir. But it would have looked rather too
marked, and that little devil of a Mrs. Winston would have be