Polly, I write you everything! The other night, just Turkish Pan and artist Peppi and Madame Mona Lisa came to a little dinner in my rooms. While we were talking of not drinking, (I had planned to stop during Lent) I said, with you in my mind, there were of course some toasts I couldn’t resist. Quick as a wink Peppi lifted his glass with “To Mona Lisa!” I was furious, but had to drink it. Dear kind bejewelled Pan then raised his and said “Miss Polly.” Of course Gilet had to refill my glass which he did with evident delight, for he does not like a dry Lent. But to the second toast I drank heel taps, you may be sure. Then my lady Lisa took an imitation pansy from her dress, saying she knew that Miss Polly gave me fresh ones, but while yours would fade, hers would last forever and bestowed it upon me. Peppi, to my great amusement, looked daggers--he was just like an angry spaniel with his fuzzy hair,--so I made a great show of sentiment in accepting the flower. Will you forgive me? not for breaking my Lenten sacrifice, for alas! what is that to my little Pagan? You wouldn’t give up your tiny glass unless you took it to pour a libation to some heathen god of mischief. Forgive me for the first toast I drank, that’s all. There is one thing also I must speak of. I have seen the gold St. Mark lion I gave you on the Prince’s chain. I am sure it was the one, because it had ruby eyes. Although we have not been speaking, I went deliberately up to him and asked him where he got it. He looked confused and said something about having picked it up in Paris. Then I remarked, “I think some pretty American girl gave it to you.” He laughed and replied, “Maybe, who knows?” And Peppi tells me today that he has already sailed for New York. Will you kindly tell me why you gave it to him? Just what does this mean? The more I think of my lion, the more indignant I am. To pay you back, I am going really to flirt with Mona. I give you fair warning. What do you think of that? * * * * * PRINCE BORIS TO POLLY _New York, March. Telegram._ Oh how happy I am to think I shall see you once again. Shall be with you tomorrow. * * * * * POLLY TO A. D. _New York,_ _March._ I’m getting desperate. It is impossible to write you how I feel or why, but I’m so alone except for Checkers. He said today, “Why young ’un, you’re getting restless,” and so I am. The Prince arrives tomorrow--Aunt still continues to be queer about our engagement. So you think I really gave the lion to the Prince? And you are flirting with the dangerous Mona Lisa. Oh, everything seems topsy turvey! * * * * * POLLY TO A. D. _Cable. New York, April 1st._ Breaking my engagement for reasons you can no doubt surmise. _PART IV_ _THE PRINCE IN PURSUIT_ A. D. TO POLLY _Rome, April 1st._