The "guests" were a young man who is secretary to some one in the government, and is never separated from a despatch-box, supposed to contain international secrets upon which the peace of the world depends. I do not think I ever met any one who took himself quite so seriously. He is supposed to be devoted to Gertrude, and is probably as much interested in her as he can be in any one besides himself. So I fear she is, at best, but a bad second! There is, however, trouble brewing for that young man, as I learned as soon as I saw a "photo" (by the way, one never says "photograph" in polite society, but "photo," and "pram," and "bike." It is a liberty the owners take with their language. This sounds like John, the reason being that for the moment I feel like John. But you will be saying: "What about the photograph?") How curious you are! Well, if you must know, it is of a young naval officer the Shelburnes met at "Gib," two years ago. He has a straight nose and a firm chin _à la_ Gibson, and blue eyes, and his name is Guy. Doesn't this tell you all you need to know? The admiral is supposed to favor the young man with the despatch-box--possibly because he knows too much about sweethearts in every port. How do you guess it will end? See what powers of condensation I have! It took Gertrude two hours to tell me what I have written in a few moments! There are two perfectly uninteresting men besides the one already spoken of, and three nondescript women who devoted themselves to me. Only one of them calls for any attention. This is Lady Agatha Bumstead. She is handsome and really means to be nice, but unfortunately she has been in the "States," and does not want to hear, but only to tell about them. After dinner, while the men were sitting over their wine, she suddenly said to me: "Have you any honest judges in America now?" I said I hoped so. She replied: "I am glad to hear it. When I was in New York, with my dear husband (she is a dowager), I remember they were trying a judge for taking a bribe, and I was told it was quite common." I said I supposed that was in the time of the Tweed regime. "Yes," she replied, "that was the name of the governor" (_sic_). I said I thought things had improved since then, and that, after all, he was but one of the hundreds of American judges, and that it was hardly fair to condemn the whole bench because of the iniquity of one Tammany judge. "But," she said, "I thought all the judges in America were appointed by Tammany. I remember my husband said, when he was trying to recover some of the money he had put into that awful Erie, that all the judges were appointed by Tammany." Hoping to get a more favorable view of America if I moved out of New York, I asked if she had travelled much in the "States." "Far more than I wished," she dryly remarked. I expressed my sympathy.