Imagine! I met Eleanor Dashgood on the Boulevard Haussmann to-day, descending from her car with her two poms yapping at her heels, just as if she were _chez elle_. I really felt like saying something pointed; but, after all, my only comment was, "My dear, what a _strange_ lot of people one meets in Paris nowadays!" "Yes, dearest," she said, "that just occurred to me, too." I'm wondering now what the creature meant. Believe me, my dear, that woman has illegally wangled a passport out of the authorities by representing herself as her husband's typist--he's got a diplomatic passport, you know. I inquired if the maid she had brought with her had turned into a typist, too, to say nothing of the poms. The _toupet_ of some people! And, of course, all this unnecessary rabble is helping to make everything _horriblement cher_. The price of things makes one's hair stand on end like the quills of the fretful porcupine. I can assure you that _le moindre petit dîner coûte les yeux de la tête_. Poor Bobbie Lacklands had a _tragic_ experience yesterday. He said he quite unthinkingly dropped into that most _recherché_ of eating places, Fouquet's, for a snack. With only a modest balance at the bank he ordered a sardine. Then he called for a _filet mignon_ and half-a-pint of _vin rouge_--he was always a reckless spendthrift sort of boy, you know. A cup of _café noir_ and an apple completed his financial ruin. But he still declares that they were most awfully decent to him about it. They agreed, with scarcely any trouble, to take all the notes and loose silver he had with him on account. They accepted his securities and are now allowing him to pay off the balance gradually. Paris is beginning to think of dress once more, or I ought to say undress, for with the skirts short and the sleeves short and the bodice low there isn't _very_ much left to write about. I hope these short tight skirts will reach the ankles before they reach England, for I notice the people who have the courage to wear them generally lack the excuse of symmetry. _Figurez-vous!_ Jenny Bounceley, who considers herself quite a _Parisienne_ now she's got her official _carte d'alimentation_, appeared the other day in a skirt that resembled the _jupe_ of a _gamine_. I think it's disgraceful in one of her age and proportions. If she were simply knock-kneed; but, as Bertie says, she's knock-ankled as well. _Votre bien dévouée_, ANNE. * * * * * "RUMANIA. REDIDIVUS." _East African Standard_. To judge from the rumours of revolution, this false concord is only too apt. * * * * * "Music was supplied and enjoyed by a local orchestra."--_Provincial Paper_. This phenomenon has frequently been observed; the audience meanwhile continuing its conversation. * * * * * "Colonel Sir Rhys Williams, who wore his khaki uniform, moved the Address in reply to the Speech from the Throne....