to the summons:--

'ENCKWORTH COURT, Wednesday.

DARLING LOUISA,--I can assure you that I am no more likely than
yourself to form another attachment, as you will perceive by what
follows. Before we left town I thought that to be able to see you
occasionally was sufficient for happiness, but down in this lonely
place the case is different. In short, my dear, I ask you to consent
to a union with me as soon as you possibly can. Your prettiness has
won my eyes and lips completely, sweet, and I lie awake at night to
think of the golden curls you allowed to escape from their confinement
on those nice times of private clothes, when we walked in the park and
slipped the bonds of service, which you were never born to any more
than I. . . .

'Had not my own feelings been so strong, I should have told you at the
first dash of my pen that what I expected is coming to pass at
last--the old dog is going to be privately married to Mrs. P. Yes,
indeed, and the wedding is coming off to-morrow, secret as the grave.
All her friends will doubtless leave service on account of it. What
he does now makes little difference to me, of course, as I had already
given warning, but I shall stick to him like a Briton in spite of it.
He has to-day made me a present, and a further five pounds for
yourself, expecting you to hold your tongue on every matter connected
with Mrs. P.'s friends, and to say nothing to any of them about this
marriage until it is over. His lordship impressed this upon me very
strong, and familiar as a brother, and of course we obey his
instructions to the letter; for I need hardly say that unless he keeps
his promise to help me in setting up the shop, our nuptials cannot be
consumed. His help depends upon our obedience, as you are aware. . .
.'

This, and much more, was from her very last lover, Lord Mountclere's
valet, who had been taken in hand directly she had convinced herself of
Joey's hopeless youthfulness. The missive sent Mrs. Menlove's spirits
soaring like spring larks; she flew upstairs in answer to the bell with a
joyful, triumphant look, which the illuminated figure of Mrs. Doncastle
in her dressing-room could not quite repress. One could almost forgive
Menlove her arts when so modest a result brought such vast content.

Mrs. Doncastle seemed inclined to make no remark during the dressing, and
at last Menlove could repre