only make a good marriage! At forty
that's easier said than done.

[Footnote 1: The new Marquis of Whitby.]

"Archibald and his wife are at a place called Monte Carlo, where
there are gaming-tables: she gambles fearfully, it seems; and they
lead a cat-and-dog life. She is _plus que coquette_, and extravagant
to a degree; and he is quite shrunk and prematurely old, and almost
shabby, and drinks more brandy than he ought.

"Daphne is charming, and is to come out next spring; she will have
L3000 a year, lucky child; all out of chocolate. What nonsense we've
all talked about trade! We shall all have to take to it in time. The
Lonlay-Savignac people were wise in their generation.

"And what do you think? Young Digby-Dobbs wants to marry her, out
of the school-room! He'll be Lord Frognal, you know; and very soon,
for his father is drinking himself to death.

"He's in your old regiment, and a great favorite; not yet twenty--he
only left Eton last Christmas twelvemonth. She says she won't have
him at any price, because he stammers.

"She declares you haven't written to her for three months, and that
you owe her an illustrated letter in French, with priests and nuns,
and dogs harnessed to a cart.

"And now for news that will delight you: She is to come abroad with
me for a twelvemonth, and wishes to go with you and me to Duesseldorf
first! _Isn't_ that a happy coincidence? We would all spend the
summer there, and then Italy for the winter; you too, if you can (so
you must be economical with that L200).

"I have already heard wonders about Dr. Hasenclever, even before
your letter came; he cured General Baines, who was given up by
everybody here, Lady Palmerston told me; she was here yesterday,
by-the-bye, and the Duchess of Bermondsey, and both inquired most
kindly after you.

"The Duchess looked as handsome as ever, and as proud as a peacock;
for last year she presented her niece, Julia Royce, 'the divine
Julia,' the greatest beauty ever seen, I am told--with many
thousands a year, if you please--Lady Jane Royce's daughter, an only
child, and her father's dead. She's six feet high, so you would go
mad about her. She's already refused sixty offers, good ones; among
them little Lord Orrisroot, the hunchback, who'll have L1000 a day
(including Sundays) when he comes into t