acrificing patriotism of the Post Office. We have all felt the
vigour of telegrammatic expression, and, even when we do not trust the
wire, we employ the force of wiry language. "Wilt thou be mine?--M.
N.," is now the ordinary form of an offer of marriage by post; and the
answer seldom goes beyond "Ever thine--P. Q." Adelaide Houghton's
love-letter was very short, but it was short from judgment and with a
settled purpose. She believed that a long epistle declaratory of her
everlasting but unfortunate attachment would frighten him. These few
words would say all that she had to say, and would say it safely. He
certainly had promised that he would go to her, and, as a gentleman, he
was bound to keep his word. He had mentioned no exact time, but it had
been understood that the visit was to be made at once. He would not
write to her. Heaven and earth! How would it be with him if Mr.
Houghton were to find the smallest scrap from him indicating improper
affection for Mrs. Houghton? He could not answer the note, and
therefore he must go at once.

He went into a deserted corner of a drawing-room at his club, and there
Seated himself for half an hour's meditation. How should he extricate
himself from this dilemma? In what language should he address a young
and beautiful woman devoted to him, but whose devotion he was bound to
repudiate? He was not voluble in conversation, and he was himself aware
of his own slowness. It was essential to him that he should prepare
beforehand almost the very words for an occasion of such
importance,--the very words and gestures and action. Would she not fly
into his arms, or at least expect that he should open his own? That
must be avoided. There must be no embracing. And then he must at once
proceed to explain all the evils of this calamitous passion;--how he
was the husband of another wife; how she was the wife of another
husband; how they were bound by honour, by religion, and equally by
prudence to remember the obligations they had incurred. He must beg her
to be silent while he said all this, and then he would conclude by
assuring her that she should always possess his steadiest friendship.
The excogitation of this took long, partly because his mind was greatly
exercised in the matter, and partly through a nervous desire to
postpone the difficult moment. At last, however, he seized his hat and
went away straight to Berkeley Square. Yes, Mrs. Houghton was at home.
He had feared that there was b