The something continued to refuse, audibly, to go in the box, and Mrs. Parples didn't attend to the door. The postman put all his soul into a final knock, which seemed to say, "I am leaving, half-out, what may be only an advertisement, or may be vital to your hereafter, or somebody's;" and then washed his hands of it and took up Next Door's case. Mr. Aiken listened for Mrs. Parples, who remained in abeyance, and then went out again and returned with a very ill-made-up consignment indeed, and a normal square envelope with a bespoken "M" embossed on its flap, directed in an upright hand, partly robust, partly æsthetic, an expression applied nowadays to anything with a charm about it. This handwriting had one. "Parples is sleeping peacefully," said Mr. Aiken. "It would be a shame to disturb Parples. I know who this is." He opened the envelope with difficulty, but looked stroked and gratified. The latter was from his very sincerely Madeline Upwell. Just you notice any male friend of yours next time you have a chance of seeing one open a letter from youth and beauty which remains--however theoretically--his very sincerely, and see if he doesn't look stroked and gratified. Mr. Hughes picked up the delivery that had given the letter-box so much trouble, and looked through it at each end. Mr. Aiken was busy reading his letter over and over; so he could only throw out a sideways carte-blanche to Mr. Hughes to unpack the inner secret of the roll. This was what he was reading: "DEAR MR. AIKEN, "I think you may like a copy of the photo Captain Calverley (who perhaps you will remember came with me to your Studio) made of this beautiful picture, which I am never tired of looking at. I think it so good. Please accept it from us if you care to have it. Believe me, dear Mr. Aiken, with kind regards to yourself and Mrs. Aiken, in which my mother joins, "Yours very sincerely, "MADELINE UPWELL. "P.S.--I know you will be sorry to hear that Captain Calverley's regiment is ordered out to South Africa. Of course, it makes us very anxious." "Transparent sort of gurl!" said Mr. Hughes, when Mr. Aiken read the letter aloud to him. "Of course, Captain Carmichael's her sweetheart. Anybody can see that with half an eye." "Calverley," said Mr. Aiken. "Yes--they get like that when it's like that." And both pondered a little, smoking, over the peculiarities of humanity, especially that inexplicable female half of it. "Chuck it over here and let's have a look at it," he added, and Mr. Hughes chucked him over the photograph. He contemplated it for a moment in silence; then said: "I expect she wasn't far out, after all. Euphemia, I mean."