"Joseph!" I gasped (I had lost all fear of him), "you ridiculous old goose, don't you _know_ me? _I_ am Gloriana, and I have found you at last!" And with that I flung myself into his arms, and told him everything. I think he was more relieved than anything. "So _you_ are Gloriana!" he said. "It's dreadfully bewildering; but, to tell you the honest truth, I can't keep up this villainy business any longer. I haven't been brought up to it, and I don't understand how it's done. So I tell you what we'll do. If you'll leave off living up to _your_ new head, I won't try to live up to _mine_!" And so we settled it. _Postscript. December 31._--We are to be married to-morrow. The Dutch Doll is to be my bridesmaid, and the Wooden Captain (who was only away on sick leave, after all) is coming up to be best man. I have seen the poor old Ball, and told him there will always be a corner for him in our new home. I am very, _very_ happy. To think that Joseph should still care for his poor Gloriana, altered and homely as her once lovely features have now become! But Joseph (who is leaning over my shoulder and reading every word I write) stops me here to assure me that I am lovelier than ever in _his_ eyes. And really--I don't know--perhaps I _am_. And in _other_ persons' eyes, too, if it comes to that. I certainly don't intend to give up society just because I happen to be _married_! [Illustration] ELEVATING THE MASSES. (A PURELY IMAGINARY SKETCH.) _ARGUMENT--MRS. FLITTERMOUSE, having got up a party to assist her in giving an Entertainment at the East End, has called a meeting for the purpose of settling the items in the programme._ _MRS. FLITTERMOUSE'S Drawing-room in Park Lane. Everybody discovered drinking tea, and chatting on matters totally unconnected with Philanthropy._ MRS. FLITTERMOUSE (_imploringly_). Now, _please_, everybody, _do_ attend! It's quite impossible to settle anything while you're all talking about something else. (_Apologies, protests, constrained silence._) Selina, dear, what do you think it would be best to begin with? The DOWAGER LADY DAMPIER. My dear Fritilla, I have no suggestion to offer. You know my opinion about the whole thing. The people don't want to be elevated, and--if they did--entertaining them is not the proper means to set about it. But I don't wish to discourage you. MRS. FLITT. Oh, but I think we could do so _much_ to give them a taste for more rational and refined amusements, poor things, to wean them from the coarse pleasures which are all they have at present. Only we must really decide what each of us is going to do. MRS. PERSE-WEAVER. A violin solo is always popular. And my daughter Cecilia will be delighted to play for you. She has been taught by the best---- CECELIA. Oh, Mother, I couldn't, really! I've never played in public. I _know_ I should break down! LADY DAMP. In that case, my dear, it would be certainly unwise on your part to attempt it.