“MY DEAR FRANK, “When I opened your letter and saw your signature I was so overwhelmed with astonishment and delight that I nearly upset the tea-tray, quite upset (I mean as regards temper) my respected father, who hates excitement; and the affair would probably have ended fatally, had not the girls administered brandy in small doses. Seriously, Frank, I am truly glad to see your fist again, and still more so to hear that you will come down and see us, if invited. Please consider yourself invited hereby. We are all agreed, father, mother, and girls, that you will be received with open arms—that is by me. Fortunately, this is of all others just the time for you to come, for we are about to plunge into dissipation. My eldest sister, Margaret, is just going to be married. The event comes off on Thursday, and there are great killings of the fatted calf over the departure of the prodigal. Now a wedding in London is, I imagine, a serious, not to say heavy, business. Here it gives rise to no end of fun and excitement, and is wound up by a ball in the evening. You will be a great acquisition. Travelled swells are scarce in these parts, and as Shakespeare says, ‘homekeeping folks have ever homely wits.’ So great things will be expected of you. My people here know all about you, having heard me speak of you a thousand times. So lose no time, but put yourself into the train at twelve o'clock upon the day you receive this. I shall be at the station, Stoke you know, at half-past five to meet you; so let there be no mistake about it. Shake old Prescott by the hand for me.—Yours very truly, “TEDDY DRAKE. Prescott laughed over the letter. “I suppose you mean to go, Frank?” “Of course,” Frank said. “This is quite an excitement. A country wedding will be a relief indeed after these solemn London parties. Well, I have no time to lose, and must go and get gloves and things for the festive occasion. Keep your eye on Buttons, Prescott, and make him useful.” It was nearly six o'clock, and already dark, when Frank arrived at the dingy little station of Stoke-on-Trent. Teddy Drake was upon the platform to meet him, and was perfectly uproarious in his greeting. “And so am I to see you, Drake, very glad. You are not a bit altered.” “You are, Frank, tremendously. I should hardly have known you with those big whiskers. Is that portmanteau all you have? That is right. Here, porter, just put this portmanteau in my dog-cart.” “This Trent valley of yours, Drake, is rather alarming to a weak-minded man. All these flaming forges and kilns certainly give one the idea that the crust of the earth must be of unusual thinness hereabouts, and the hot regions unpleasantly near. I do not feel singed yet, certainly, still one can't but think that _facilis descensus averni_. The question is, ‘shall I hence unscathed go?’” Teddy laughed.