allowed to rest my
brain. When everything is settled, one way or the other, my features,
also, shall have repose. To keep young, every woman ought to go into
retirement for at least one month out of the twelve, a fortnight at a
time, perhaps, and do nothing but eat and sleep, see nobody, talk to
nobody, think of nothing, and especially not _smile_. If one followed
that regime religiously, with or without prayer and fasting, one need
never have crow's-feet.

Of course, with you it is different. You have now decided to live for
Dick, and let your waist measure look after itself; but I have larger
aims and fewer years than you, dearest. My conception of self-respecting
widowhood is to be as young as possible, as attractive as possible, as
rich as possible, and eventually to read my title clear to (at least) a
baronet, and have a castle in a good hunting county. There are
difficulties in my upward way, yet I feel strongly I shall overcome
them. Let my motto be, "The battle to the smart, and the situation to
the pretty." Why shouldn't I triumph on both counts? The ward, to be
sure, is pretty, and is in the situation; but she doesn't know her own
advantages, and I'm not sure she would marry Sir Lionel if he asked her;
which at present he apparently has no intention of doing, although he
admires her more warmly than either Dick or I think advisable in a
guardian.

Since I wrote you last, just before starting on this motor match-making
venture of ours, there have been several new developments. I don't know
whether you are any deeper in Dick's confidence, in this affair, than I
am (though I fancy not), but I scent a mystery. Dick really _has_
detective talent, dear Sis, and if I were you, I shouldn't oppose his
setting up as a sort of _art nouveau_ Sherlock Holmes. Whether he has
found out about some schoolgirl peccadillo of Miss Lethbridge's, and is
dangling it over her head, Damocles sword fashion, I can't tell, because
_he_ won't tell; though he looks offensively wise when I tease him, and
I have tried in vain, on my own account, to discover. But certain it is
that he is either blackmailing her in a milk-and-water way, or
hypnotizing her to obey his orders.

He hinted, you know, that he could get the girl to make Sir Lionel
invite us to join the motoring party; but I supposed then that she had a
weakness of the heart where my dear nephew was concerned. Now, my
opinion is that she dislikes, yet fears him. Not very complimen