in broken and unconnected phrases,
quite unsuited to the easy flow of composition. "I suppose, Gusty,--I
take it for granted,--you must begin, 'My dear sir,'--eh?--or, perhaps,
better still, 'Dear Mr. Dunn.'"

"'Dear Mr. Dunn,'" said she, not looking up from the paper, but quietly
retouching the last letters with her pen.

"But I don't see why, after all, we should follow this foolish lead,"
said he, proudly. "The acceptance he meets from others need not dictate
to us, Gusty. I 'd say, 'The Earl of Glengariff'--or, 'I am requested by
Lord Glen-gariff--'"

"'My father, Lord Glengariff,'" interposed she, quietly.

"It sounds more civilly, perhaps. Be it so;" and again he walked up
and down, in the same hard conflict of composition. At length he burst
forth: "There 's nothing on earth more difficult than addressing a man
of this sort. You want his intimacy without familiarity. You wish to
be able to obtain the benefit of his advice, and yet not incur the
infliction of his dictation. In fact, you are perfectly prepared to
treat him as a valued guest, provided he never lapses into the delusion
that he is your friend. Now, it would take old Metternich to write the
sort of note I mean."

"If I apprehend you, your wish is to ask him down here on a visit of
a few days, with the intimation that you have a matter of business to
communicate--"

"Yes, yes," said he, impatiently, "that's very true. The business part
of the matter should come in incidentally, and yet the tone of the
invitation be such as to let him distinctly understand that he does not
come without an express object Now you have my meaning, Gusty," said he,
with the triumphant air of one who had just surmounted a difficulty.

"If I have, then, I am as far as ever from knowing how to convey it,"
said she, half peevishly. "I'd simply say, 'Dear Sir,' or, 'Dear Mr.
Dunn,--There is a question of great moment to myself, on which your
advice and counsel would be most valuable to me. If you could spare
me the few days a visit would cost you, and while giving us the great
pleasure of your society--'"

"Too flattering, by half. No, no," broke he in again. "I 'll tell you
what would be the effect of all that, Gusty,"--and his voice swelled out
full and forcibly,--"the fellow would come here, and, before a week was
over, he 'd call me Glengariff!"

She grew crimson over face and forehead and neck, and then almost as
quickly pale again; and, rising hastily from the t