_Saturday._--Meet her at Hurlingham. She is so fond of polo. She says the Captain was a splendid player. I expected that. A sort of Champion of the World. Of course. I never played in my life. Listen to an account of his exploits. Rather bored. _Sunday._--Up the river. Very hot day. Delightful to lounge in the shade and smoke. VIOLET more energetic. Compels me to exert myself. She says the Captain could do anything in a boat. No doubt. I am prepared to hear that he shot the Falls of Niagara in a punt. He was a wonderful genius. I am tired of hearing of him. _Monday._--To Mr. MONTGOMERY-MUMBY'S dance. VIOLET there of course. We both like dancing. Get on charmingly together. Suddenly something reminds her of the ever-lamented Captain P. P. C. I suggest that he has said good-bye to her for ever, as his initials show. She does not see the little joke. Have to explain it to her. Then she says it is a very poor joke. No doubt it is, but she needn't tell me so. Annoying. A certain coolness between us. _Tuesday._--To the French play with VIOLET and her aunt. She understands French very well. Seems to think a lot of me because I know something of several languages. Ask her if Captain CHOLMONDELEY was fond of learning languages. Am prepared to hear that he was a second MEZZOFANTI. On the contrary, it seems that he couldn't speak a word of anything but English, and that he didn't speak very much that was worth hearing even in that. The only French he could understand was in a _menu_. Apparently he never read anything else in any language, except the sporting papers in English. Have at last found something he could not do. Delighted. Unfortunately show this. VIOLET begins to defend him. I say he must have been rather a duffer. She retorts that I can't play polo. What has that to do with it? Again a coolness between us. _Wednesday._--It is all over! We have parted for ever. She could never forget that confounded Captain. Asked her this morning, when she was telling me of his shooting elephants, or alligators, or rabbits, or sparrows, or something wonderful, why she did not marry him. She says it was broken off. She shows me his last letter of farewell. I read it critically. It is very short. Point out to her nine mistakes in spelling, and four in grammar. She says I am brutal. Indignation. Argument. Scorn. Tears. Farewell. * * * * * [Illustration: SO THAT DOESN'T COUNT. "Are you sure they're quite Fresh?" "Wot a Question to arst! Can't yer see they're Alive?" "Yes; but _you_'re _Alive_, you know!"] * * * * * GREAT WHEEL GOSSIP. Are you quite sure that it is safe? Well, there have been all sorts of stories about this sort of thing, but I don't believe it. The PRINCE went, you know. Oh, yes, of course. Then that's all right. Now we are off. How interesting! We can see the tops of the houses! But what are we waiting for?