e favourite expression. So you'll agree with me I have
a fair field, _if_ I'm permitted to enter. Am I?

Can I undo everything and go back to the days before the revolution?
Would it be fair to others concerned? And that reminds me, whatever
happens, young Marcel mustn't suffer. He has been a complication for
some time, but apparently he's likely to be a more serious one now.
You'd never guess what he's done, if I gave you a dozen chances, so I'll
sandwich his love story with mine.

_Her_ best friend is named Adrienne de Moncourt, daughter of the widowed
Marquise "of that ilk." The said Marquise, from what I gather, is
responsible for Miss Moore's being brought up in France, under her own
eye. I shrewdly suspect this was arranged in the hope of attracting our
"Beloved Vagabond," Larry, back and forth across the sea. A terrible,
man-eating tigress of a lady's maid has been imported, nominally to take
care of Princess Pat, secretly (or I'll eat my hat) to keep an eye upon
and report on Larry's capers to the Marquise de Moncourt! Since my
Princess came to these shores, "a distant cousin from America" has
introduced himself to the Marquise. He being young, good looking, and
presumably rich, the lady invited him to her chateau to spend Easter.
Mademoiselle came home from school for the holidays. The two met. The
name of the rich American cousin is Marcel de Moncourt. The Princess
Patricia says that she loves her Adrienne next best to Larry, and she
hopes and prays the cousin is all he should be. She asked me to tell her
if "_our_ Marcel" had a son. I was obliged to confess that he had; but
when she wanted to know if it could possibly be the same, I hedged in
every direction. You and Moncourt and I must have a powwow as soon as
possible.

You can't blame me for falling in love, as you always said the thing
was inevitable; and you'll be even less likely to croak if I tell you
how it was I first diagnosed the serious state of my feelings.

It was at the dance you got me invited to at the Piping Rock Club--many
thanks again. You will deduce that I bought a "reach me down" evening
suit before starting on this expedition--first time I'd worried myself
into such togs for heaven knows how long. I never thought to be caught
by conventions again, but I'd tar and feather my body if that was the
costume best suited to _her_ society. You see how I'm turning over new
leaves--turning so fast I've hardly time to read them as I go on!