"Come back this week. You have gone for two long, and Dad goes out and forgets us at six, so we pray you come the very day the posman givs you this letter. Josie is a beest so is Georgie, they would not dare be onceevil if I had legs to katsh them. I made them look under my chare for the new kiten wich never went ther, and then I priked ther legs with my sharpest pensil wich serve them wright, and this is telling tales wich is not a gentilman's duty, but we have all been wicket and loanley till you come back. I draw your face all over my new book, but I can not remember your exack smile. I want it badly, and I luv you next to Dad who does not tell stories like you, and the ake in my head is becorse you are not here. "Your loving, "RUFFIE." Anstice replied to both these by return of post. "DEAR JUSTIN,— "I have been having a hectic time, but will keep my promise and return on the tenth day, which will be next Tuesday. Cousin Lucy is well, and we have long talks now just as we are thinking of going to bed, which is a fashion with most women, I believe. "I shall turn my face homewards with gladness. I have always known that I own a country soul, a soul that would soon get parched and wearied in the bustle and crush of London life. And sometimes now with the distant sound of traffic—for I'm thankful we're in a quiet square—I shut my eyes for a moment and see purple Fells against a lemon sky, and that delicious stretch of calm, cool water below them. So you see, I shall return with no laggard steps—I hope to arrive by that five o'clock train—and am bringing parcels of joy for the chicks. I am so thankful you have been over to the old Nixons. I hope you told them that, directly the weather improves, I shall be coming to see them. You will be interested to hear that I ran across Colonel Malcolm Dermot the other day, and I lunched with him and his wife at Claridges'. Now I must close—au revoir. "Yours, "ANSTICE." "MY LITTLE DARLING,— "What a long letter, and how tired the poor fingers must have been with holding the pen, and what a business it must have been to think of the spelling, and choose the right words, and guide the tiresome pen to put them down in proper order and without any blots!