about! And there was papa and Egerton and Theeny all sniggering at mamma, I know, in secret, and really proud of the connexion, if the truth were known. Mamma tried to get a little revenge by saying to me freezingly when the Hoefenhoffer had gone: 'I suppose you are going home with Mr. Bradshaw, Laetitia? Good-night.' And then she said _goodn_ to Paggy just as she had said _howd_. I thought Paggy behaved so nicely. However, I'll tell you all about that on Monday. "Papa was _very_ nice--came out on the doorstep to say good-night, and, do you know--it really _is_ very odd; it must be the sea air--papa said to Paggy as we were starting: 'How's the head--the nerves, you know--eh, Master Julius?' And actually Paggy said: 'Why, God bless my soul, I had forgotten all about them!' Oh, Sally darling, just think! Suppose they got well, and all because I treated him to a honeymoon! Oh, my gracious, what a long letter!" "There now! that _is_ a letter and a half. 'With love from us both,' mine affectionately. And twelve pages! And Tishy's hand's not so large, neither, as all that." This is Sally, as epilogue; but her mother puts in a correction: "It's thirteen pages. There's a bit on a loose page you haven't read." Sally has seen that, and it was nothing--so she says; but Fenwick picks it up and reads it aloud: "P.S.--Just a line to say I've remembered that name. She's Herrick--married a parson in India soon after her Penderfield husband died. She's great on reformatories." Sally reread her letter with a glow of interest on her face and a passing approval or echo now and then. She noticed nothing unusual in either her mother or her stepfather; but she did not look up, so absorbed was she. Had she done so she might have wondered why her mother had gone so pale suddenly, and why there should be that puzzled absent look on the handsome face her eyes remained fixed on across the table; but her own mind was far away, deep in her amusement at her friend's letter, full of her image of the disconcerted Dragon and the way Paganini and Beethoven in alliance had ridden rough-shod over Mrs. Grundy and social distinctions. She saw nothing, and finished a cup of coffee undisturbed, and asked for more.