I do not think that Susanna Twitter would make so good a clergyman's wife as her sister, as she is rather more attractive and might do better. Constance is one of those girls of whom her friends will say "she is lovely when you get to know her." More than that can be claimed for Susanna. It would even be unjust to class her as good-hearted. She has neither face nor figure, but is just a great big hobble-de-hoy, can play a man's game of tennis, and is studying jiu jitsu. In a few years she will have a double chin and a beam. I like her immensely, though I do wish she would not dance as though she were patting down a tennis-court with her feet. It is very delightful to read in the paper this morning that Mr. Mudison led, dancing with the beautiful débutante. I suppose at this very moment thousands of unfortunates who were not there are studying the columns and columns that tell about it, and picturing Mr. Mudison gliding airily about a brilliant ballroom, in his arms clasping a slender fair-haired girl, with Grecian features and a marvellous complexion; Mr. Mudison, delicately holding the tips of her slender fingers, leading her gracefully through the intricate mazes of some figure; Mr. Mudison, followed by flunkeys bearing gifts, priceless gifts of paper parasols and pin-wheels; the music stilled at his beck; at his call the dreamy strains again filling the room. A delightful picture! I do like Susanna Twitter immensely, but the rare times I danced with her I entirely lost control, thanks to her having always been accustomed to leading at boarding-schools, and I felt as though I were clinging to a fly-wheel. It was on one of these mad careers that Winthrop Jumpkin, dancing the Boston in a corner, hurled Sally Bilberry violently against me, and a moment later Evelyn Garish's partner poked his elbow in my eye. Susanna said that she could go on forever, and I think she would have, for I do waltz well, but luckily Horatio Gastly stepped on her bit of flying train, and before we could overcome our momentum she had unravelled down one side of the room. We had to retrace her gown, a dangerous task, as a dozen nimble feet had caught it up, and seemed to resent my wild efforts to disentangle them.