Truly you lost no time in hurrying to your Mona Lisa with my cablegram. Moreover, there’s a little doubt in your letter when you ask, “Is it the Prince?” Can you blame me if--well, I’ll leave the rest unwritten. In the meantime, Aunt is going to take Checkers, Sybil and me to Louisville for the races, and then to Canada, just for a brief camping trip. She says it’s to cheer me up, for I showed her your letter and she’s much annoyed with you. Indeed it raised the poor thing’s hopes that I was making the April Fool joke a reality. It did come rather near to being serious. The Prince joins us at Louisville. Strange about those pictures. I guess I’ll watch him. Do you still think I really gave Boris your lion? Well, only to show you how wrong you are about me, I will tell you that I did lose it in Paris, but not until your letter came, did I have any idea the Prince had it. I suppose he must have picked it up, and I am not at all sure he even knew that it was mine. Now aren’t you ashamed? I’m going right on, however, with preparations for the wedding in spite of Aunt’s denials. A few presents are arriving, for I put a bold face on to my friends and say we are engaged and you are coming soon. We have a vase, a tea-set, a great silver bowl; so far that’s about all. My old beaux are sending things, all except Boris, who seems to think his constant presence is the one thing to bestow. I am working on the wedding list,--it seems endless, and Aunt sniffs incredulously when she sees me at it. How long I’ve sat over this letter I don’t know, just dreaming of you and thinking of Venice so many months ago. Now it is Spring and warm and lovely; the flowers are in bloom and you are not here. Will any of my dreams come true, I wonder? * * * * * A. D. TO POLLY _Rome, April._ Sweetheart, on coming home I found a letter from the new Secretary who is leaving Washington for Rome even before the Ambassador. I am going to pack up at once and be ready to start as soon as he arrives. Now you can settle on some date towards the end of May for the wedding. Hurrah! Gilet shall go around and get my bills in to pay them, the butcher, the baker, the candlestick-maker. There must be some official cards printed with a little p.p.c. in the lower left-hand corner ready to leave. I must look up the dates of sailings of the ships for home, say goodbye, give a lot of tips to porters, ushers, chambermaids, _sommeliers_, and go to the station and so to you!