il I looked up a few moments later to see a
robin once again upon my window-ledge. I would not swear that it was the
same bird, but, feeling that one robin was as good as another, I told it
all about Clare's publisher and what this might mean to all of us.

* * *

Some days later I came down to breakfast, to find another letter lying on
the table beside my plate. This letter also was addressed to me. Having
gone through much the same process as that used with regard to my earlier
correspondence, I discovered that this was from Clare's _fiance_. He
thanked me for my very kind congratulations of the 13th ultimo, and went on
to say that, with regard to the latter part of my letter, he was not quite
sure exactly what an idyll might be, and so my interesting description of
my embryo book conveyed little to him. Even so, he went on, he would have
been honoured to publish any book written by any relative of his dear
Clare, but that he dealt, to be candid, exclusively in legal text-books.

* * *

To Martha, entering at this moment, I confessed that there was at least
this to be said for her and her man, that they had never concealed their
connection with that odious thing, the Law.

* * *

Later, I read an extract from my manuscript aloud to the robin. He wore an
air of abstraction and I could see that his thoughts were running on other
matters more immediately concerned with his own interests.

* * *

To me the robin is a peculiarly human bird.

* * * * *

BLANCHE'S LETTERS.

_REVUES_ AND THINGS.
_Park Lane._
_January 31st._

DEAREST DAPHNE,--I've been putting in quite a pleasant little time down at
Much Gaddington with Bosh and Wee-Wee. Theatricals were the order of the
night, and the best thing we did was a _revue_ written for us by the Rector
of Much Gaddington, who's a perfectly sweet man and immensely clever. It's
a better _revue_ than _any_ of those at the theatres, and as that dreadful
Censor had, of course, nothing to do with it the dear rector could make it
as snappy as he liked. Wee-Wee and I were two "plume girls," Sal and Nan,
in aprons, you know, and feathers and boots stitched with white; and our
duet, "Biff along, Old Sport!" with a pavement dance between the verses,
fairly brought down the house. The rector himself was _impayable_ in his
songs, "Wink to me only," and "Tango--Tangoing--Tangone!" But the
outstanding feature